


As If This Year Couldn't Get Any Worse

by TheRedEgg



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton Being an Asshole, Alexander has a big fat crush on John, Alexander is a bratty teenager, Alexander loves potato wedges, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Eliza, Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Coming Out, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Gen, George Washington is disappointed, Hurt/Comfort, Lawyer AU but thats thats not that important to the plot, Living Together, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outing, Swearing, Tension, Thomas Jefferson Being an Asshole, Thomas and Alex get stuck in quarantine, Thomas is a mother, bisexual john laurens, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26160961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedEgg/pseuds/TheRedEgg
Summary: March 2020.Coronavirus strikes New York.And Alexander Hamilton just HAD to get stuck in quarantine with him.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton & George Washington, Alexander Hamilton & Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, Alexander Hamilton & Hercules Mulligan, Alexander Hamilton & John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton & Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Thomas Jefferson & James Madison
Comments: 93
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo I kinda thought of this and wrote this spontaneously. Don't expect regular updates, but I won't disappear like last time. *hides face*  
> DISCLAIMER: This is an Enemies to Friends NOT Enemies to Lovers so no smut or Jamilton here, turn away if that's what your looking for.

“What the hell are you doing here dipshit?” Jefferson’s expression turned sour when he opened the door. He wasn’t expecting Hamilton’s smug face to greet him. The man’s vibrant green hoodie made his small figure stand out against the darkness of the outside world. 

“I’m here because you live way too close to work and as I was so thoughtfully staying behind to help with the move, Washington realised you don’t have everything you need,” Hamilton stepped back to reveal a pink, plastic storage box, packed to the brim with paper. Jefferson raised an eyebrow. 

“And.. Washington sent… you? Couldn’t he just email them?” Jefferson eyed the messenger up and down. Hamilton was exhausted. Dark bags under his eyes, ponytail loosened, back slouching, face weary and paler than usual. The backpack on his back weighed him down to a crooked stance, unlike the perfect posture, determined employee Jefferson knew. This wasn’t Hamilton. This was Alexander. 

“Nope. These aren’t allowed to be kept on file,” Alexander grabbed the box and moved closer to Thomas’ door, “It’s cold and late. Either you take this or you invite me in.”  
Thomas crossed his arms and sighed. No way he’d let Arrogant Alexander the Asshole into his home! However…

“I would leave you out here but I have stuff that actually you’re better off having. Come on in then,” Thomas opened the door wider, letting the shivering man into his hallway, “Put the files on my couch. Don’t. Touch. Anything. Wait here,” he muttered lowly and followed him. 

The box was left dumped and discarded on the couch when he came downstairs. Alexander was too busy looking through his rap CDs to notice him.  
“Kendrick Lamar? Huh, I didn’t think-,” he was interrupted by the slam of paper against the wood of the coffee table. 

“I remember saying,” Thomas’ loud exclamation made the fucker jump and scramble to his feet, “to not touch anything. Here’s some reports that I found while I was cleaning. They’re far more useful to you than they are to me. You’re welcome,” Thomas huffed as he collapsed onto his couch and switched the TV back on. 

*New cases in the USA as Coronavirus continues to spread..,*

The only other sound than the news was the rustling of Alexander looking over the reports. 

*Vulnerable groups are advised to stay home. This includes children, pregnant women, elderly citizens, people with respiratory conditions..*

“Hey dipshit? Thomas grabbed the man’s attention as he reached for a can of Coke, popping it open.

“Hmm?” Alexander hummed that he was listening, not taking his eyes off of the papers. Typical.

“Those respiratory problems that you have. Weren’t you supposed to start self isolating like two days ago?”  
Alexander finally looked up, annoyed.

“I’m not diagnosed with anything. I’m fine. There was work to be done,” He snapped before shrugging his backpack off and carefully sliding the reports into it. Thomas swallowed a mouthful of Cola and frowned.

“Maybe you should. I don’t want to take disgusting cough medicine because I caught something off of you,” Thomas turned back to the TV.

*And of course, a great thank you to our essential workers*

A young man with bruised cheeks and the engraved outline of a facemask on his sunken face in a sterile, blue uniform appeared on screen. 

“Oh really? I thought you’d like that shit,” Alexander zipped the bag up, stood up, wobbling, and slinging the bag onto his hunched shoulders. 

“Ey don’t start Hamilton,” Thomas lounged back onto the cushions, staring in numb disbelief onto the screen. He shook his head, “Mad respect for those doctors.” 

Alexander also turned his gaze toward the news channel. Neither of them said anything, watching report after study after graph after another person sobbing into a picture of a grandparent. It was surreal. It was their reality. 

Alexander cleared his throat.  
“I’m gonna go. I’ll see you… when I see you. Hopefully never again.”

“Yeah yeah yeah mutual. Get lost Hamilton. I’ll see you on Zoom” Thomas clicked his tongue, taking one last look at Hamilton. This was it. He wasn’t going to miss him, obviously, but…  
No Alexander in person for months to come. Bliss.  
Thomas registered his voice echoing a noise from his hallway sounding like “See you” before the door opened. 

“Shit.”

Thomas stood in front of the open door, hands on his hips, biting his lip not to swear.  
To describe the weather as “raining” would be an understatement.  
It was bucketing down with fat droplets of rain. All he could see was water. It hadn’t rained this hard in a while now. He sighed heavily. Alexander turned around slowly with a questioning expression.

“Thomaaasss?...” 

“No,” Thomas shook his head automatically. Nope. Not happening.

“I’m gonna get soaked! At least let me stay for an hour!”

“No!” He exclaimed sharply, “Hamilton I really could not care less if you get absolutely drenched to the core. You’re not staying here.”  
The smaller man tilted his head to the side.

“Please? I won’t get in your way?” Alexander asked sincerely, without mockery or sarcasm. Thomas sighed. He could just stick a film on and not have to talk…

“No!” 

“I’ve got my laptop. I’ll work, you can do whatever. Please?” 

Thomas sighed loudly again and looked at his ceiling in exasperation. He never gave attention to his ceiling. The swirls and patterns were actually quite pretty.  
Just an hour. Only. An Hour.  
“Fine. But annoy me and you’re getting booted. I don’t care about you and your filthy ass hoodie.” 

\----

An hour into Jurassic Park and the rain hadn’t died down, even giving off the feeling that it worsened. Thomas wasn’t watching and enjoying it properly. It was more a distraction to avoid leaving Alexander alone downstairs. The clacking and clicking of his keyboard couldn’t be more loud. Thomas sighed and prayed for the rain to die down.  
\-----  
The tell tale sound of a laptop getting slammed shut tore Thomas out from his Jurassic Park induced trance. He shifted round on his couch to see Alexander peel himself out of a chair. He shuffled to the arm of the couch.  
“I won’t talk, but I can’t work anymore. Can’t focus,” Alexander muttered in exhaustion. Thomas sighed and moved to the far right of the couch. Without looking at each other, Alexander sank down at the opposite end.  
Thomas checked his watch.  
“What time is the last train?” He asked, not taking his eyes off the screen as a dinosaur roared.

“Around eleven. I’ll be fine,” 

The clock on the wall struck ten as the rain pummelled down on the ground.  
\---

Thomas could barely see the TV screen, his eyes were watering and closing with exhaustion. Today was exhausting. In preparation of working from home, all of today was spent loading boxes into cars and locking cabinets and moving everything onto his work laptop and a USB stick and making a copy of said USB stick and many many other tiring things. Thomas had been helping Madison after he set himself up, and thankfully, Hamilton was mostly hanging around Washington like a puppy.  
Thomas went home as soon as he was finished. Hamilton stayed.  
He glanced at Alexander. He was barely awake.  
Thomas yawned. Nothing would happen if he closed his eyes for a moment… Right? Riighhtt… 

‘This is nice,’ Thomas sighed in his head. He would only rest for a minute. The sound of the nightmarish rain lulled him into… a state… of.. sleep..

\------

“Jefferson,” 

“Jefferson!” 

“Jefferson you asshole wake up! Look at this shit! Look at it!” 

Thomas snapped awake at Alexander’s screeching. A phone was shoved into his face. He batted it away sleepily.

“What is it Hamilton? Has it stopped raining?” he murmured, planting his hands on the sides of the couch and sitting upright. He slept in his clothes. Ugh. A shower was in need.

“Oh yes Thomas. It has stopped raining,” Hamilton’s voice wavered in.. panic? Fury? God, what was his problem? The sound of a curtain being yanked open startled him. Thomas whined sleepily as a ray of blinding sunshine attacked him. 

“Your problem?” 

“My problem.. My problem Jefferson is that I wake up to a fucking travel ban, cancelled trains and buses, and, the best thing, everyone is not to leave their home! Quarantine! Hundreds of people are stuck in quarantine together!” Alexander continued to screech while Thomas tried to comprehend.  
Alexander couldn’t get home. His point?

Alexander couldn’t get home. 

Alexander was quarantined with him. 

Alexander Hamilton was stuck in quarantine with him.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no way of returning home, Alexander and Thomas process the situation while tensions already begin to rise.

"So definitely no taxis available? Ok. Thank you sir," Alexander launched his phone halfway across the hallway. This couldn't be happening. Out of all the worst case scenarios, this one was truly terrible.  
If Jefferson was only his political rival and a decent person, it would be bearable. Alexander would clench his teeth, not argue with his viewpoint, and try to make this awful ordeal bearable. But no. Not only was Jefferson his workplace enemy, he was insufferable and a complete jerk.   
Alexander breathed out heavily through his nose. He wanted to scream.

"Hamilton! What the hell?" The tall twat stood in the door frame to the living room, hair and expression an angry hurricane, "Throw something one more time, I dare you." 

"No taxis! Everything is down!" Alexander said hopelessly, grim defeat settling on his face. Jefferson stopped scowling. 

"Shit," he ran a slightly shaky hand through his frizzy hair. Alexander moved across the wooden floorboard, limbs heavy and picked up the phone. "Are you sure walking is not an option?"

"Nope. It will take me hours to walk from here to Washington Heights. And I will get sent back by the police. If anyone sees me in a police car my career is ruined," Alexander sighed in frustration and shook his head. Then he frowned, "Hold on, don't you have a car?" 

"Sold it. Was gonna buy a new one but I guess now I can't," Jefferson punctuated the 'T' in annoyed defeat.   
The two retreated back onto the couch. Neither of them spoke. Turning the TV on would only bring more bad news. 

They sat in awkward silence for what felt like hours. Finally, Jefferson broke it. 

"Alright. I'm gonna go shower and change because I stink. You, stay put. You either turn the TV on or work on your laptop or call those people you call friends. Do not. Move. Do not. Touch. Anything," Jefferson warned sternly. 

"Or what?" Alexander challenged, already taking his phone out. Jefferson stared at him in brief shock, before scowling at him.

"I don't know yet. I'll think of something. My house. My rules," and with that, Jefferson sauntered away. The sound of his footsteps travelled upstairs and a door slammed. Alexander huffed and rolled his eyes.

"My house, my rules," he mimicked and shook his head. Opening up his contact list he called TurtleBoi first. 

"John, you will not believe what's happening." 

"Alex! I was starting to get worried! You didn't text me last night! And yeah I saw the news. Total lockdown."

"I fell asleep. And yes the lockdown is terrifying but I will tell you something even worse." 

"Oh god, don't tell me.. do you have it?" 

"What? No! I'm stuck in quarantine with Thomas fucking Jefferson!" 

"You're kidding?"   
\----  
Thomas exhaled deeply under the hot spray of water beating down on his back.   
He cursed himself in several different languages. This was his fault. He allowed that little shit into his house. He should have said no. Hamilton wasn't going to infect anyone with a cold if he caught one, he'd be safe at home.  
This wouldn't be happening if he said no.

Thomas washed the conditioner out of his hair and turned the water off. Seeing that brat almost every day was intolerable enough. The idea of a full on worldwide pandemic was bad enough, let alone spending it all day, every day with that deathly annoying know it all.   
Grabbing a towel and roughly drying himself off, Thomas began mentally compiling a list of rules.

\--

"That sucks ass dude! What if you walk by night? No one will see you."

"Hercules, he isn't going to walk for four hours in pitch darkness! Who knows what could be lurking around a corner? Alexander, mon ami, do not even think about it!"

"Relax Laf, I'm staying here for the time being. Are you guys stocked up on everything?" 

"I've got enough fabric to last through the winter, so my apprenticeship isn't going anywhere. As for food, I may have overdone it with the crackers but I'll be fiinnnee."

"The important question here 'Zander is if Jefferson has enough food for the two of you."

"I didn't think about that. Alex if he doesn't give you enough to eat I'm getting over there, virus be damned!"

"Alright alright John, I don't want you catching Jefferson's germs."

"He certainly won't be."  
Jefferson's icy voice made Alexander's heart jump up to his throat,"you got one minute, meet me in the kitchen."  
Alexander ignored the shocked giggles from the other line, muttered a hasty 'goodbye' and ended the call.

*Groupcall with TurtleBoi, HotPants, Lancelot & Roast Ham ended*

"Yeah yeah what is it?" Alexander sauntered into the kitchen, his expression somewhere in between the scale of annoyed and bored. Jefferson stood at the end of the kitchen table, arms crossed, unimpressed. 

"For the sake of peaceful discussion, I will ignore that comment about germs," he began in a slow voice, as if speaking to a toddler. Alexander rolled his eyes.

"Peaceful discussion? Between us two? You're funny Jeffershit," he answered back rudely. Jefferson inhaled deeply. Alexander whooped a silent victory in his head. How he loved to annoy that pompous prick. 

"You're like a goddamm teenager," Jefferson shook his head, "Now listen up. This is how things are gonna work. As I said, my house, my rules."

Alexander rolled his eyes again.  
This was gonna take a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment to comment your thoughts, I really would appreciate your feedback :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson establishes rules as tension continues to rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do people even enjoy this?

"Now," Jefferson clapped his hands and gestured to the table, "Sit."  
Alexander reluctantly slid into a chair. 

"First of all, tracking," Jefferson began, "I want to know where you are at all times. If you're going to spend the day in the kitchen working, I'm gonna need to know. You want to sit outside in the sun for an hour, tell me. Bathroom is the only exception, since there's one upstairs and one down. I don't want to be constantly checking what you are doing. Because I obviously don't trust you. Are we clear?" 

Alexander blinked, feeling more prisoner than housemate.  
"You sure are paranoid. Fine, no going anywhere without your permission."

"Second, food. Allergies?" Alexander was very tempted to answer with 'your face' but resisted the urge and shook his head,"Great. I am willing to allow you to be in charge of your own schedule. I understand we have different tastes and different eating times. So you're gonna make your own breakfast, lunch and dinner. I don't want you whining about not liking my cooking. However if I catch you skipping meals or not eating, I will establish a schedule for you, and that schedule will not be up for discussion. And please don't eat all of my food just to spite me, you will make yourself sick and I don't want you throwing up. Are we clear?"  
After the idea vanished from Alexander's head, he stopped for a moment. Jefferson actually cared for his eating schedule? He quickly pushed that aside.

"Do we have enough for the both of us?" He asked sensibly. Jefferson made a small 'hmm' noise as he thought about it.

"We should, but if it comes to the situation that we don't, I'm sure we'll be able to order online."  
Alexander nodded, Laurens won't have to attack Jefferson in the dead of night.

"Third point, now that I'm living with you, I need to be aware of any physical or mental health concerns."  
Alexander raised an eyebrow. Really?

"You care?" 

"Hamilton I swear to God," Jefferson sighed, exasperated, looking up to the ceiling, "Yes or no?"

"No," Alexander lied, he's not telling that asshole about-

"So that time you almost collapsed after climbing a staircase shouldn't concern me?" Jefferson folded his arms expectantly. Oh. His respiratory issues. Right.

"Listen, Jeffershit, I'm not diagnosed with anything. I'm. Fine," he insisted. Jefferson shook his head.

"Just because you're not diagnosed doesn't mean shit. What if you need an inhaler? What if you stop breathing properly? I need to know what to do!" 

Alexander sighed. He really wasn't fooling around. 

"Fine," he huffed, "If that were to happen, which it won't, but if it does, turn the hot tap on in the bathroom and let me breathe the steam in," his pale face was going red. Why was his face going red?! 

"I'll remember that. Was it really that difficult?" He pressed quietly with an angry edge in his eyes. Jefferson was treating him like a child!

"No," Alexander mumbled, "Carry on."

"Now, you are not going to work all day every day to pass time," Jefferson pointed a warning finger at him as Alexander made a face of protest, "I will pry your laptop from your little, grabby, ink stained hands if I have to. We have to pass the time in the evenings somehow. I've got a number of DVDs and Netflix. I also have UNO. If we don't rip each other to shreds by late afternoon, we can spend some time together."  
Alexander raised an eyebrow. Huh. Perhaps mindlessly binging Netflix shows on the same couch as Thomas Freaking Jefferson wasn’t as bad as it sounded.  
"Question, where am I sleeping? Because I will sleep on the couch if-," 

"I was about to get to that," Jefferson stood up and gestured to follow him. They were going upstairs.

"Wow this place is really five star."

"Shut up Hamilton, be grateful I even let you in here."  
Alexander ventured into the room that was going to be his for a few months.  
There was no denying it. It was a storage room. Well, a bedroom converted into a storage room. Boxes were stacked along the left wall, only one of them not duct taped shut. Interesting. A laundry basket filled with clothes labelled CHARITY inhabited the right corner closest to the door. Against the back wall, an aged but not old single bed. One purple curtained window, chipped yet not peeling grey walls and a wooden floor that looked fairly new.  
It wasn’t horrible. 

“It’s better than the couch. Thank you, I guess,” Alexander shrugged and ventured into the small yet spacious room. He threw himself onto the bed, “Ohh yeahh this is way better than the couch.” 

“You’re welcome,” Jefferson didn’t look at him as he made his way over to the laundry basket. Alexander perked up in curiosity. He didn't expect the basket to be lifted and for all its contents to be dumped on the floor. He frowned in confusion. 

"We both know you can't spend all of quarantine in your jeans and hoodie. All of this is too small for me and has been washed. Pick a few things, as well as something you'd be comfortable sleeping in," Jefferson gestured to the pile, before opening the unsealed box and rummaging around, looking for something.  
Alexander blinked in surprise. No way.

"Seriously?" He cautiously slid off the bed and sat cross legged in front of the pile. 

"Yes seriously," Jefferson mumbled, head still buried in the box. Alexander huffed and started to examine the laundry mountain. Before he managed to touch it, something landed in his lap. For the second time today, Alexander blushed in the presence of Thomas goddamn Jefferson.

"I bought a pack of boxers last month and they were too small. Don't worry, I threw the used pair out and the rest haven't been touched. I'll leave you to it," Jefferson's voice said above his head, he couldn't look at him, not with the absolute tomato that his face had turned into. And with that, the man left him alone with a pile of old Jefferson clothes and a pack of nine, white boxer briefs.  
Alexander started to regret not gritting his teeth and getting drenched.  
\--  
Opening his laptop with shaky hands, Thomas tried to ignore the racing thoughts in his head.  
'Get it together Thomas. It's been a year,'  
A year the storage room had stayed locked. A year he hadn't looked at the boxes filled with photographs and books and old shoes. And now, Hamilton's essence is in there, now the memory will be forever tainted, it will forever bear Hamilton's stench, all of it will have been touched by his disgusting fingertips-  
Thomas slammed the Enter button hard after entering his password.  
Enough.  
Deep breath.  
In.  
One, two, three, four..  
Out.  
One, two three four. 

Jefferson's hands unclenched from his hair as he exhaled. Slightly better.  
His eyes focused on his screen. A red circle next to his gmail shortcut made him sigh.  
People were already demanding him. 

"Yo Jeffershit!" Hamilton's voice rang down the stairs. 

"What do you want, asshole?" Thomas called back, not even looking up from his laptop. Four unread emails from GWashington. Great.

To: TJefferson  
From: GWashington  
Subject: Reports

Hello,

I just realised that I didn't give you some reports that you require that are not allowed to be on file.  
I've sent Hamilton to drop them off.  
Please confirm when you get them.

Regards  
GWashington 

"I'm gonna go shower and change, if that's okay with his majesty?" The sarcasm in his voice made Thomas sighed heavily. This man was meant to be Washington's favourite.

To: TJefferson  
From: GWashington  
Subject: Reports

Hello,

I just realised that I didn't give you some reports that you require that are not allowed to be on file.  
I've sent Hamilton to drop them off.  
Please confirm when you get them.  
I'm resending this email, since you haven't replied in a few hours now.

Regards  
GWashington

"Watch your tone asshat. Wash all your germs off please," Jefferson chose to not hear the overly dramatic slam of the bathroom door. Child. 

To: TJefferson  
From: GWashington  
Subject: Please confirm that Hamilton is safe

Thomas it is now past eleven pm. Please confirm that Hamilton has made it to your house.

GWashington

To: TJefferson  
From: GWashington  
Subject: Please confirm that Hamilton is safe

We have not heard from Alexander and it is now past midnight. His friends are very worried. If you hear from him, please let me know. If we have no contact from him until noon tomorow, I will inform the police.

GWashington

"Shit," Thomas swore and typed out a hasty reply.

To: GWashington  
From: TJefferson  
Subject: Hamilton is safe

I apologise for not replying, Hamilton and I both fell asleep. I have received the reports, and Hamilton is currently quarantined with me. He has everything he needs to work from home. I apologise again for worrying you.

TJefferson

He exhaled again. Fuck 2020 and the stupid ass pandemic. Honestly man.

Alexander cringed as he pulled on a pair of blue running shorts and a grey hoodie, both slightly big on him. These were Jefferson's clothes. Ugh. Disgusting.  
Looking at all the old clothes Jefferson had harboured had definitely been interesting.  
Among them a faded Star Wars t shirt, Spiderman pyjama bottoms, a number of Virginia shirts, a Kendrick shirt that was big enough to hide Alex's thin frame, black sweatpants that he adopted as pyjamas and..  
And a baby blue, very feminine, women's blouse.  
Now, Alex wasn't overly bothered if Jefferson had a secret feminine side or if a one night fling left it here by accident.  
It was still something to pester him about.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Alexander speak to their friends and the first arguments start to break out
> 
> TW - talk about skipping meals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few things: -  
> IMPORTANT - In the first chapter it was mentioned that Alexander works in Treasury. IGNORE THAT. I've had a minor change of plan.  
> HOW IS THIS GOING TO WORK? I'm obviously not going to write a few chapters per day, or a chapter a day, because that would take me ages. The time jumps will usually be about a week - 10 days long, the date and day will be at the start of the chapter.  
> Enjoy this longer than usual chapter!

"How the hell can you eat that?" Thomas chewed his blueberries in disgust, as Hamilton shoveled Fruit Loops into his mouth.

"Why is it in your cabinet then?" Hamilton gestured wildly with his spoon, droplets of milk landing next to Thomas' plate. 

"Because my little cousins refuse to eat anything else when they come over," Thomas shrugged, finishing the rest of his tangerine. Hamilton mumbled something vaguely resembling 'fair enough' before continuing to rush his cereal. All Thomas could do was blink blankly in disapproving disappointment. If it was corn flakes or muesli he might have excused it but…  
"Fruit Loops are disgusting. And so unhealthy," Thomas shook his head, unwrapping his KitKat.

"He says as he eats a chocolate bar!" Hamilton exclaimed in outrage, lifting the bowl to his lips and gulping down the leftover lukewarm milk. Thomas wanted to vomit. 

"Yes but I balance my meals, unlike you. Now get upstairs, the Zoom starts in five minutes," Thomas took a bite of his chocolate before clearing up his lunch-that-was-technically-his-breakfast. Hamilton dumped his bowl and spoon in the sink, while Thomas gently placed his plate beside it, gagging at the smell of artificialness and sugary milk. Thomas bit back a comment about Hamilton not eating enough and sat down at the kitchen table. Now the work at home begins…

Alexander climbed the stairs excitedly. Thank God he couldn't be in the same room as Jefferson during the Zoom, as the slight call delay would be amplified over and over, from laptop to laptop, destroying the ears of everyone in the call. Any opportunity to be away from him, Alex was going to take it. He kicked the door shut and scrambled onto the bed, laptop already open, logged in and waiting for him. The first Zoom will probably just be Lee not being able to turn his microphone on and Adams thinking he's on mute as he complains aloud and Burr sighing and-  
Alexander cracked his knuckles. Bring it on.

The Zoom went… well. After a solid ten minutes of Lee and the newer positions mucking around with Zoom backgrounds, the call lagging and freezing, accidental disconnects, Addams thinking he muted himself and calling Hamilton a number of names to his wife, all the while the chat sat in awkward silence and many other ordeals, Washington looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

"Can we please focus?" He sighed, the disappointed parent as usual. The giggles and snickers died down eventually.  
Thomas ran a hand down his face exasperated. If this was going to be work for the rest of the months to come, Thomas wanted to quit this very moment.  
"Okay is my screen shared? You should be able to see…,"  
The fact that their cameras had to be on made it difficult to sulk. Speaking of cameras, Hamilton's grey wall background was now a brightly lit bathroom. From this perspective, the laptop must have been sitting on the closed toilet. He was also on mute. What was he doing..  
Thomas caught a glimpse of the cursed orange toothbrush that the brat carried wherever he went.  
The nerve of this man.  
"...I will be expecting you to be on time for-,"

"Hamilton? Are you seriously brushing your teeth while on call?" Thomas interrupted in disbelief. Everybody stopped paying attention to the mandatory "Work From Home" orientation PowerPoint that Washington was forced to give and glanced to the bottom right corner where their faces were lined up. Hamilton leaned forward and unmuted himself, toothbrush still in his mouth as toothpaste dripped onto Ham- Thomas' grey hoodie. 

"Yesh. Um lishenin," he nodded awkwardly, "Washinton, shir. Gudmornin."  
Thomas clenched his fist under the table.  
Washington blinked as the rest of the call sat in stiff silence.

"Morning son, please pay attention as you multitask, I don't want you unaware of the new work protocol."  
And just like that, the meeting continued.  
Thomas rolled his eyes. He got used to being the elder child who got in trouble for all the things the youngest didn't. But this was just straight out favouritism!  
He unclenched his fist. Just another hour…

"And that concludes our first Zoom together. Does anyone have any questions?"  
Thomas' heart sang. Finally. He was dying for a drink.  
"Thomas?" He shook his head.

"No sir, everything makes," he cleared his throat. Damn he was thirsty,"excuse me, everything makes sense."  
The call was silent. Everyone had frozen, eyes wide in shock. Even Washington looked concerned. Wh-  
Oh.  
"Guys," Thomas chuckled awkwardly, "I was just-," He didn't get to finish. 

"CORONA!" Hamilton hollered from upstairs. Thomas' soul left his body.

"I swear to GOD HAMILTON!" He roared in rage, turning his head in the direction of the stairs. Hamilton was going to regret opening his mouth after this damn call was over. He turned back to the bewildered faces of Washington, Lee, Adams, Burr, James and some other lower positioners that Thomas couldn't be arsed learning the name of. And then, Alexander fucking Hamilton sat back down in front of the camera, smirking like the absolute asshole that he was.  
"Sorry about that," Thomas faked a smile to the best of his strength. It failed miserably, "Washington sir, please continue."  
That kid was dead.

"You couldn't behave for ninety minutes."  
Alex definitely did not jump as Jefferson stormed into his room.

"Ah. Thomas. God that Zoom was really something-," Alexander smirked smugly, but was interrupted by Jefferson stalking toward him.

"Don't Thomas me, you little shit," he cocked his head menacingly, "You can't sit through ninety minutes of a presentation without trying to have a go at me?" 

"Chilax! It was just a joke!" Alex waved his hand, "Washington even sent a group email saying that he'll make an exception for our behaviour since it was our first meeting."

"Washington doesn't concern me," Jefferson started lowly, "Unlike you, I won't run to him, tears in my eyes, crying just cause you annoy me," he exhaled heavily, unclenching his fist,"Now our situation is different since we're living together. If you want us to get along without me being an," Jefferson even had the nerve to mime the quotation marks, ""asshole" to you, could you at least try to be mature?"  
Alex rolled his eyes.  
This was a horrible idea. Two mortal enemies in the same house for the foreseeable future. This was going to be a disaster. 

"You know, the quotation marks are completely unnecessary. You are an asshole. Period," Alex crossed his arms. He didn't mind standing up for his statements.

"Whatever," Jefferson spat, annoyed, "What are you going to do now?"  
Ah. Tracking. Right.

"I'll be staying here, doing my work," he sat back onto the bed, pulling his laptop onto his knees, "If.. that's ok with you," he added rudely. Jefferson started to head out, nodding sarcastically.

"Work. Of course. Remember to get dinner. I'll be next door if the weasel needs me."  
And with that, the door slammed shut and the room fell silent. Alexander stared after him. Did he really just remind him to eat and called him a weasel in the same sentence?  
Alex sighed and stretched his legs as his hands wandered onto his keyboard. As weird as it felt to be sitting in Thomas Jefferson's home, a man he hated from the beginning, Alexander did his best to focus more on his work than his surroundings.

"Why didn't you text me?! God I'm so sorry!" James exclaimed through the Skype call. Thomas sighed heavily.

"Yeah we fell asleep and woke up like twenty minutes before the Zoom. I would have texted you right away, you know that." 

"Wait wait what why was he there in the first place?"

"So, he stayed back to help set everyone up with working from home-,"

"Of course." 

"And so Washington found some stuff that I should have with me, and he sent HIM, of all people. So I let him in for five goddamn minutes and it starts to rain."

"That rain was a nightmare yesterday."

"So he begs me to let him stay for a bit since he will get absolutely drenched if he walked to the train station."

"I see where this is going." 

"So then we stay up till like eleven watching the Jurassic Park films because the rain only got worse. And then we wake up to a complete travel ban." 

"That's terrible. That is really terrible."

"I know. We've been quarantined for less than a day and I'm already sick of it."

"Mmm. Can I be honest for a second?" 

"Shoot."

"When we were on the Zoom call I recognised your old hoodie on Hamilton. And I thought-"

"Oh God."

"Thomas would have told me if you two-."

"Oh my god EW no!" 

"And then he was brushing his teeth on call and I'm thinking "Isn't that Thomas' bathroom?" So I concluded that he must have stayed over. Which further lead me to believe-,"

"God Jemmy no stop don't go any further-," 

"So all through the call I just thought-,"

"James oh my GOD!"

"Alright alright! I'm sorry!"

"Mhm that's why I thought. God this is crazy. You got everything? You stocked up on your toilet paper?"

Alexander managed to work for ten minutes before Jefferson's and Madison's giggles and loud conversations made him lose focus. On the other hand, his earphones were still in a heap at the bottom of his backpack. And, Eliza was online.

"I hate this. I hate this so much." 

"I can't even imagine. How is he? Now that you have to live with him?"

"Honestly it's weird. Because one minute he'll be himself, you know, being an asshole to me and calling me names, and then the next he'll remind me to eat dinner and that he'll force me to eat if I don't. One minute he's nice and the next he's not." 

"Maybe he has two sides? Because he doesn't behave like that with James."

"He's not actually that bad once you get to know him," Angelica chimed in from the background, carrying a pile of laundry that she placed on Eliza's bed. "How you doing Alexander?" 

"I'm horrible thanks for asking, how do you know Jefferson?" 

"Oh we got drinks a couple of times. We didn't date if that's what you're asking." 

"Isn't he like, sworn off dating?" Eliza turned round to look at her sister. Angelica shrugged. 

"He told me he doesn't do the dating thing. Oh maybe he's gay?" 

"Maybe. What if it's James? And he's pining?" 

"Let's not assume. Where's Peggy?" Alexander changed the subject quickly. God this was awkward.

"Oh she's in the garden playing football by herself. She's really upset about practice getting cancelled." Angelica looked out of the window in Eliza's bedroom, "I think she's crying, I'll go to her. Bye now!" Angelica waved into the camera and disappeared. He was left alone with Eliza again. This was his chance.

"Eliza I'm.. I'm sorry about.. us," Alexander felt his face going red, "I wanted to do this in person, but I can't now, and I was-," 

"Hey!" Eliza interrupted with a kind smile, " It's ok! I admit that I was a bit upset at first, but well, you can't control who you're attracted to. And if that someone isn't me, then.. you know.. it's not me that's doing something wrong. And I would be a hypocrite if I pushed you away right now, because I know how hard it is to figure out your sexuality. I thought I was broken, turns out I'm just asexual," Eliza paused, still with nothing but kindness on her face, "I don't blame you and I'm not mad at you."

"I just," Alex stammered, staring at his keyboard, "I thought I liked girls, so when you asked me out I thought I liked you, but it was just the feeling of 'someone has a crush on me' that I thought was attraction so I said yes and now I think I like guys and-."

"It's ok! It's all okay!" Eliza smiled again, "Is there a guy?" 

"I- noo," Alexander mumbled, embarrassed once again. Eliza giggled.

"C'monnnn. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Oh what a coincidence it's time for me to get back to work!" 

"Alexanderrrr c'monn."

"I'll text you later Eliza. I do actually need to get some more work done."

"Ugh. Fine," Eliza pouted playfully, "Don't overwork yourself please."

"I'll see you later." 

Thomas disconnected his Skype call, corners of his mouth sore from smiling. Shutting his laptop down, he made his way down to the kitchen. Today had been a smack in the face. Thomas managed to forget about his annoying and immature colleagues, about work, about Hamilton for one night. For one night he was fully ready to not have to deal with that rat in person for a period of time. But no.  
Thomas sighed as he poured a portion of pasta into the boiling water. At least he had James to talk to.  
The clock on the wall struck six. 

Half past and still no sign of Hamilton. Thomas sighed in frustration and abandoned his steaming bowl of macaroni cheese to drag the gremlin out of his sanctuary.  
Hamilton jumped as Thomas burst into his room. Said gremlin was in the middle of typing away on his laptop, eyes clearly straining and tired. 

"What the hell Jefferson?! You can't just burst into here!" Hamilton cried out in protest. Thomas raised his eyebrows.

"What? Scared I'll catch you masturbating? It's half past six, when are you getting dinner?" Thomas inquired expectantly. Hamilton. Rolled. His eyes. 

"I'm not hungry jackass," he mumbled, saving whatever document he was working on and continued to type.

"Remember when I said that I will establish a schedule for you if you skip meals? Remember you agreed to that?" Thomas moved further into the room.

"Yeah, and I'm not hungry. I'll eat later," he said without looking up. Thomas sighed, fed up. Fine. 

"Alright. You want to act like a child?" In two big strides, he crossed the room and grabbed Hamilton's laptop. Several noises of protest left him, and with Thomas' strength, the laptop was snatched and placed on the floor.

"Hey!" Hamilton jumped after it but Thomas foresaw this. He grabbed him by the hoodie and tugged him back, careful not to send him to the floor.

"I'll treat you like a child," Despite his struggling, there was no escape from Thomas' grip.

"Let go you asshole!" Hamilton hissed, before trying to wriggle out of the hoodie. Thomas reinforced his grip, this time holding onto Hamilton's shoulder rather than just the fabric. It was a small shoulder, a bit too bony. 

"I have to do this because you're behaving like a child and I'm not letting you skip meals. Not happening. You need more than just a bowl of cereal. So when I do let you go, will you go downstairs and make yourself food?" Thomas scolded sternly and slowly relaxed his grip on Hamilton. He was blushing, again, not looking at Thomas. He adjusted the hoodie to his shoulders, turned on his heel and stomped downstairs in silence.  
There we go.

Alexander slammed the door shut and plonked himself down on the bed, careful not to drop any of the potato wedges he made. That was awkward. Jefferson ate his revolting macaroni cheese in tense silence while Alex tried to remember his cooking class where he managed to whip up a trayful of edible potato wedges.  
And then there was the part where Alexander couldn't reach the tray. And he had to take a chair. And Jefferson kept smirking behind his fist..  
He chewed his wedges weakly as he stripped off his clothes. Alex couldn't deny it any longer, he was tired. His plans of working late were discarded to the side as he shut down his laptop and pulled his pyjamas on. Well.. the black sweatpants and white vest that belonged to Jefferson, that Alex claimed as his sleepwear. He shuddered again. The clothes felt foreign on his thin frame.  
He climbed into bed and pulled the plate of wedges onto his knees.  
What a day.  
To be fair, this could be a lot worse.  
Jefferson could hit him, or make him sleep on the couch. Currently they were only spitting insults at each other and walking on each other's ice. Somebody was going to snap eventually. And Alexander promised himself it wouldn't be him. 

Tossing the empty plate aside, he grabbed his phone, spammed with notifications.  
189 new messages from Knuckleheads  
3 new messages from GWashington  
2 new messages from Queen Elizabeth  
1 new message from TurtleBoi

Alexander chuckled lightly and opened the notification from John first.

TurtleBoi  
You ok? How was the first day?

He smiled stupidly into his pillow. Time for a rant.

RoastHam  
Oh my god. Let me tell you.

MARCH 1, DAY 1 OF QUARANTINE. OVER.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always so so thrilled to see your feedback, negative or positive :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tensions of living with your sworn enemy finally break as the boys begin to argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW- anxiety attacks, past trauma, talk of not eating enough 
> 
> Took me forever to write this. Writer's block sucks

MARCH 7. DAY 7 OF QUARANTINE.  
08:55

"What in fresh hell is that?" Alex wondered aloud in revolted curiosity as he breezed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, "Is that like, blended frog or something?" 

"It's a spinach, kale, apple and kiwi smoothie actually," Jefferson snapped, narrowing his eyes in Alex's direction.  
Alexander mimicked throwing up as he pulled a yogurt out of the fridge. He didn't feel like eating anything else, Jefferson's comments about his diet be damned.  
Jefferson muttered something resembling "shut up" and fed the sink a plate stained with scrambled eggs.  
"At least I eat properly, don't make me force you into bigger breakfasts too." 

"You won't have to," Alexander mumbled behind a spoonful of cherry yogurt," 's all I need." 

"I disagree, but at least you've been eating lunch and dinner properly all week," Jefferson shook his head and made himself comfortable on the couch, laptop sitting ready for the nine o'clock Zoom.

"Yeah yeah yeah ok. Remember you're doing dishes after work," Alexander grabbed the yogurt to take upstairs and sneakily eat while on call. 

"Mhm. Hamilton?" Jefferson called out before he reached the hall. He poked his head back into the living room, "Try not to give Washington a headache the size of Canada? And please let me keep my will to live?" 

"We'll see," Alexander rolled his eyes and retreated into his room.

10:00

Why Alexander hadn't thought of this earlier, he had no idea. Receiving messages on his PC, sending them from the phone under his desk. Alexander had typed so much on his phone, he had the keyboard memorized. To Washington and the rest, he looked as if he was only leaning forward, eyes on his screen. All week he'd been maintaining the lie. 

TurtleBoi

Tut tut tut  
So unprofessional   
Texting during work? Again?

RoastHam 

Shut uppp Jeffershit and I know all this shit

TurtleBoi

Of course. No wonder you two are rivals. Truth or dare?

RoastHam

There are many things that make him my rival. He's an asshole.

Also sure, truth

TurtleBoi

When was the last time you lied?

RoastHam 

Woah, that's deep for a first one.  
Hmm  
I lied to Jefferson about eating all of my dinner on Wednesday.

TurtleBoi 

*sigh* why   
Do I need to call him that you're not eating properly?

RoastHam

What no no no you can't do that 

TurtleBoi

If you don't eat properly I'm going to have to   
You know I worry about you 

RoastHam

I know I know   
I'm sorry  
I'll try to establish a better schedule   
Your turn 

11:01  
"Are you seriously that stupid?" Thomas thundered when Hamilton reappeared in the kitchen.

"Could ask you the exact same thing," he stormed past Thomas to throw the empty yogurt pot into the bin with unnecessary force, "I didn't think your IQ could drop any lower."

"Oh shut your mouth Hamilton. You sit in complete silence for the majority of the meetings, and when I give valid points on how we could improve the efficiency and effectiveness of this company, you shut me down without thinking twice. Do you even think about my points? Or do you disagree and mock me just to spite me?" He stalked closer to Hamilton and his nasty smirk. 

"Aww sorry did I huwt youw feewings?" Hamilton pouted mockingly. Thomas clenched a shaking fist.

"Listen-."

"No! You listen to me, asshole!" Hamilton threw an unstable, accusing finger in Thomas' direction, "That's what you refuse to do! Listen! You don't want me to be right, you can't stand me being right. That is why we never agree, because unlike you, I actually take them in and discredit them, because they're wrong. You just can't stand your ego and pride being so much as pricked. Because that's what you are, a prick." 

"My ego?" Thomas breathed out, chuckling hollowly.

"Yes you self-righteous, pompous bastard!" Hamilton hissed, leaning against the fridge, "Your nose is so high in the clouds, you think you are so superior and you can't let me be better than you even for a second. Why? Is it because I'm an immigrant? Is that it?"

"What?" Thomas blinked in dumbfounded shock, "What- no of course not! You're just an annoying, know it all asshole!" 

They glared at each other for what felt like hours before Thomas gave in.  
"Jesus Hamilton," he sighed and shook his head,"You know, if you want to do something good for once in your life, can you at least pass me the leftover Cola from the fridge?"

Hamilton raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes.  
"Whatever shitface," he muttered, opening the fridge and holding out the half empty Cola bottle, "this one?"

"Yeah can you pass it? Please?" Thomas asked with forced politeness. Hamilton glanced at him, then back at the bottle. And in that moment, dread and regret punched Thomas in the face.  
Hamilton, the infuriating man that he is, uncapped the bottle and started to drink it.  
Thomas could only stare in shock as he chugged the leftover drink, sorely just to spite him. In seconds, the bottle was empty and Hamilton yanked the plastic away from his lips with a 'pop' to come up for air.

"Fuck you," Hamilton panted, throwing the bottle into the bin.

"I can't believe you," Thomas' arms dropped to his sides in resignation, "where was the need?"

"There was every need you tall, egotistical, green smoothie drinking- ohhh my GOD UAGH!" Hamilton insults were cut off as he bent over in pain, clutching his middle. Thomas snorted.

"That's what you get you little shit! Shouldn't have chugged it that fast," Thomas breezed past him, ignoring his muffled groaning and pulled his beloved green juice from the side of the fridge.

"Screw you Jeffershit," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

"And for the record," Thomas turned round to get the last laugh, "These smoothies are really good. And healthy."  
And with that, Thomas turned on his heel and left Hamilton to groan in pain in the kitchen. 

14:00

Alexander reluctantly made his way downstairs. He actually took Eliza's advice and took a lunch break from work. At least the resting fear of throwing up had passed and he was free to eat something calmly. He could make himself a nutritious lunch for once, eat it in peace, maybe poke around to decide what dinner would look like-  
Except Jefferson was still doing the dishes.  
Alexander bit the inside of his cheek. He also vowed to follow Eliza's advice on 'not annoying Jefferson just for fun' to the best of his ability.   
Jefferson didn't look up from the sink, yet he acknowledged Alexander's presence through a twitch in his soap-sud covered arms. Alexander clenched his teeth and shoved two pieces of bread into the toaster.   
'This is awkward,' Alexander thought, the sound of a sponge scrubbing against porcelain plates saving them from the silence that would have swallowed them. He pulled out his phone and opened Instagram to distract himself.   
He regretted it instantly.  
ItsTJeffs in his 'Suggested for you' page wasn't a distraction. He glanced at Jefferson at the sink, rinsing the soup pot filled with tomato coloured water. The thought of looking Thomas Jefferson up on social media never crossed his mind.  
'Ah what the hell,' he shrugged and clicked the profile.  
And to his luck, it wasn't private. 

His profile picture was Jefferson and Madison in the sea, splashing water at each other. Alexander expected it to be a professionally shot selfie but was pleasantly taken aback that Jefferson actually cared for someone other than himself. His bio contained his name, "Virginia" and "A Healthy Outside starts from the Inside." Damn, Jefferson was more obsessed with healthy living than Alexander thought. He had three posts. The first one, dating back to 2013, a picture of a sunset captioned with "Virginia my home sweet home I wanna give you a kiss" with a kiss emoji. The second was from 2018, and it was his profile picture, captioned with "Friendship is important, don't lose it @JemmyM." Alexander glanced at Jefferson again. He was about to finish the dishes. There was a large gap between the two posts, so either he was very inactive or he deleted a lot of his content. Alexander didn't care, obviously, but Jefferson and Madison were a lot closer than he initially thought. The back of his mind wondered if something happened, something to cause the posts being deleted. The third one was a picture of Jefferson in a magenta hoodie, covering his face with the hood and taken mid laugh. Captioned with "JEMMY TAKEOVER." They were very close then.  
His toast popped out.

Thomas exhaled as Hamilton finally left. He wiped his arms with the cloth and checked his phone.   
2 new messages from JemmyM  
1 new follower: RoastHam 

Thomas blinked to make sure he read that correctly. It couldn't be him.  
And how wrong he was. Alexander Hamilton had followed him on Instagram. His first thought was to remove him. However, if Hamilton saw his posts, he can now see his. If the account wasn't private. Which it wasn't.  
His profile picture was, to Thomas' horror, a closeup of Barry B Bensen from the cursed Bee Movie. His bio consisted of "A.Ham" and "he/him." There was one post, Hamilton and three other guys on a train, all wearing sunglasses and captioned with "Knuckleheads." So these were Hamilton's friends that he'd heard so much about. There was a highlight labelled "Fun Times" where Thomas assumed all of his pictures were kept.   
Thomas sighed loudly and followed him back.

18:00

TurtleBoi

Actually I've been meaning to ask you about something else

RoastHam

I'm assuming it's not about vampires   
Shoot

TurtleBoi 

No, we'll need to continue this conversation later because I didn't think we'd be so invested in how vampires would live their life lol  
It's fine if you don't want to answer but Peggy texted me last night. About you and Eliza. 

RoastHam

Oh.  
What did she say?

TurtleBoi

That you guys are officially broken up. I asked why and she said that she is sworn to secrecy. 

RoastHam

Ah. Bless Peggy

TurtleBoi

Why did you guys break up? If I'm allowed to know?

Alexander looked up from his phone. This probably wasn't a good idea. He exhaled heavily. This was John though. He always said that Alexander could tell him anything and he wouldn't judge and they'd stay friends. 

RoastHam

If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone 

TurtleBoi 

Not even Laf and Herc?

RoastHam

No

TurtleBoi

Alright. Your secret is safe with me

RoastHam

And you have to promise that we stay friends and nothing changes 

TurtleBoi

Of course 

Alexander clenched his fists. There was no backing out now.

RoastHam

I don't think I'm straight

He slammed his phone down on the bed and sprang to his feet. Heart racing and mind spinning he stumbled down the stairs. Numbly watching TV for the rest of his life currently sounded amazing.

"You done with work for today?" Thomas asked nonchalantly, sprawled on the couch with Kendrick playing softly on his CD player. Hamilton sat down slowly on the armrest of the couch, arms crossed and tense. Thomas frowned. This wasn't like him, "You ok?" 

"Bored. We could watch something?" Hamilton offered with a shrug of his shoulders, avoiding the question. Thomas pointed to a clear box labelled 'DVDs' and motioned for him to bring it over. 

"What about Moana? It's calming and one of the best Disney films," he set the box down on the couch and pulled the DVD out. Thomas grimaced while turning off his music.

"Moana is a kid's film. I have the first season of Breaking Bad?" 

"Um, Moana is a masterpiece, how dare you disrespect it," Hamilton protested in outrage.

"Oh of course you think so. What about Star Wars? It's a classic?" 

"What do you mean "of course I think so?" 

"Moana is a kids film. Kids watch films for kids. You watch kids films-."

"Are you calling me a kid?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

"I am a legal, mature, over the age of eighteen adult thank you very much!"

"You sure about that?"

"Shut up Jeffershit, you watch cartoons."

"It's anime! And it was one time! You shouldn't even have been working so long at the office anyway!"

"I was actually working unlike you!"

"Oh don't make this a work thing Hamilton, I swear to God. Calling yourself mature."

"I am mature!"

"Oh? Oh really? So chugging my Cola and almost throwing up just to annoy me is mature?" 

"Shut up."

"You shut up then and let's just pick something at random to watch."

"At random. Sure. You'll probably rig it."

"What is your problem?"

"I hate you."

"I hate you more."

"I hate you most."

"Did you just quote Tangled as you're arguing with me? Real mature Hamilton."

"Stop saying I'm not mature!"

"You're not!"

"Am too!"

"Are not!" 

"Am too!" 

"A-."

A heavy knock on the door interrupted their bickering. Both heads whipped in the direction of the hall. 

"I'll get it," Thomas muttered quietly as Hamilton sat frozen to the spot. Who?..  
Thomas' brows furrowed curiously at the sheet of paper at the bottom of the front door. A note? He picked it up cautiously and opened it.

Please keep the noise down or I will have no choice but to call the police! This is a breach of privacy and peace! This is a violation of my human rights! This is a sexist attack on my family! This is- 

Thomas scrunched it up, aimed it at Hamilton's head and launched. 

"Jeffershit? Who is it- OW!" Hamilton exclaimed in surprise more than pain, "What the hell?"

"Noise complaint from a Karen next door," he waved his hand carelessly and threw himself onto the couch. Hamilton opened the note and must have read the first line before throwing the paper behind him.

"It's not even that late," he grumbled, sliding down onto the couch and sitting on it properly rather than being perched awkwardly on the armrest, "this is your fault." 

"How is this my fault?!" Thomas proclaimed. The nerve of this man.

"You started this! You started dissing Moana and I cannot allow you-."

"Did you ever think that maybe you're too loud for your own good?"

"Too loud? Do you want me to whisper?"

"I mean in general. You talk too much. There's a reason people call you a loudmouth bother. They have a point." 

"Oh name calling now are we? Weren't you the one who called me immature?"

"Jackass."

"Asshole."

"Little shit."

"Oh fuck you and your comments about my height."

"Oh sorry did you say something? I can't hear you."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you too!" 

They sat in tense silence, glaring at each other. 

"You know what," Thomas sighed in exasperation, "since you're being difficult-."

"I'M being diff-."

"SINCE you're being difficult, we'll just turn the TV on, and we'll watch whatever is on. Fine?"

"Fine!" Hamilton huffed and moved away from him.

"Fine! Jeez!" 

Thomas pushed the DVD box aside and switched the TV on. The end credits to a drama were rolling as the presenter announced the next film.

"Hah! In your face Jefferson!"

"The original Mulan is a decent movie so I ain't complaining." 

"But you'll complain about Moana?" 

"Will you SHUT UP," Thomas exploded, slamming his hand on his thigh, "about Moana? Don't answer that. Shut up. And sit and just watch the damn movie." 

They both sat in silence with clenched jaws as the Disney logos and intros rolled onto the screen. 

Alexander managed to actually enjoy himself while watching the film. For a while anyway. He didn't think about anything else until Mulan's family sat down to eat. He started to zone out, numb to Mulan's outrage. He didn't pay attention to her emotional transformation and leave. All his brain could focus on was the thunder in the background. It was deafening. His breath hitched and his hands trembled. Oh God not now…

After miraculously calming down within minutes, Alexander didn't enjoy the movie properly. As childish as it sounded, he just wanted to go home. Or meet up with John and hug him until he was better. John..  
Ironically, A Girl Worth Fighting For started to play.   
'What if it's not a girl I want to fight for?' He thought with an internal sigh. His stomach tightened; the text. John wouldn't cut their ties because of this, right? Of course, he was just being stupid. Alexander didn't know why he was panicking about this. John always reassured him that anything he would say, wouldn't change the way he looked at him. And how did John look at him? And is that what Alex wanted? To be just friends?   
No. Alex wanted more. 

He shook his head. Now was not the time.   
Alex completely forgot about the scene with the decimated village. The destroyed houses, the fires dancing here and there, collapsing structures, the abandoned doll…  
The storm-  
Alex couldn't breathe.   
He glanced at Jefferson, his eyes were sorely focused on the screen. Perfect.

"I'm gonna get an early night. I'll see you in the morning," Alex forced his voice not to tremble as he stood up on stiff legs.

"Alright. Good-."  
Alex didn't hear the rest as he scrambled for the temporary safety of the storage room.

He burst into the room and closed the door hastily. In the privacy of his own space, Alex stopped holding back his loud hyperventilating. He sat down on the bed and hid his face in shaky hands. OhGodOhGodOhGOD why did this have to happen now? Alex whimpered quietly behind clenched teeth. What if Jefferson walks in? What if-  
What would John do if he were here?   
He reached across the bed for his phone. Ignoring the unread message from his friend, he found the file and jammed his finger on the volume up button.   
The soothing sound of tweeting birds erupted from the speaker. Alex did his best to focus solely on that and not too vivid images of his town getting ripped to pieces, with him in the centre.   
He focused on the sight of boxes covered in duct tape, the laundry basket, the vibrant purple curtains, the starry night sky outside and the door that he prayed wouldn't open any minute.  
He focused on the soft skin of his fingertips, the roughness of his- Jefferson's jeans that still fit him, the smoothness of his nails and the cold screen of his phone, still soothing him with sweet chirping of songbirds.  
He focused on the sound of said songbirds, bright and melodious, of his breathing, calmer yet still shaky and the shrill scream of a siren in the distance.  
He focused on the smell of the body wash he found in Jefferson's bathroom, coconut and black pepper, and on the smell of the room, dusty and old with a hint of freshness.   
He focused on the lingering taste of Jefferson's tomato soup that Alex would not admit out loud, was pretty decent.  
Deep breath in.  
Hold for five.  
Deep breath out.  
Hold for five.  
Better.

TurtleBoi 

Alex I am so proud of you for telling me. This could never change anything between us and you are so brave for confiding in me. Is there a specific label you feel comfortable using? And if you don't that's 100% okay you don't need one if you can't or don't want to pin anything just yet. I know how hard this must be, you remember how much I freaked about coming out as bi. Laf and Herc are okay with me, I'm certain they'll love and accept you too, but if you're not ready to tell them that is also valid and 100% okay. You know I'll always love you man. 

Alex hastily wiped tears from his eyes, however he didn't fight the goofy grin spreading on his face. He clutched the phone to his chest and read the text over and over again.  
"I'll always love you man." He clung onto the fantasy in his head that John meant it in the way Alex knew he probably didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love your feedback and suggestions :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW- nightmares, light physical violence, swearing, talk of trauma, grief and loss
> 
> Here you go   
> Hahhh lots to unpack in this chapter so buckle up kiddies  
> Also I finished this chapter around midnight I'm s o r r y if theres appalling spelling mistakes

MARCH 14. DAY 14 OF QUARANTINE 

16:00

JemmyM

Is that you finished with work for today? How are you feeling after… that?

ItsTJeff

I still have shit to do but I don't care I'm done for today. That Zoom was a shitshow and this week has been horrible.

JemmyM 

I'm assuming that's not just because of work?

ItsTJeffs

So you know after the fight last week?  
So far we've had a repeat of that at least ten times.

JemmyM

Ten? Jesus, what about? 

ItsTJeffs

He got mad at me for apparently messing up the recycling and general waste bags when HE was the one in charge for taking it out this week. He screeched at me because there is "nothing to fucking drink" EVEN THOUGH he lives on coffee and the Gatorade he found in the closet AND finds my green juices annoying. And HES the one who drank my Cola.   
The whole week he's just been picking at me, hoping for blood. And the rest is usually our post work, half hour screaming session about his stupid ideas. 

Jemmy M

What an asshole! It's a miracle you guys haven't got a noise complaint 

ItsTJeff

About that 

JemmyM

And you didn't tell me??

ItsTJeff

With everything going on, I kinda forgot.  
We got like 7 from the Karen next door.

JemmyM

Please be careful though, if the police turn up at your door you know what that means for your careers. It could drastically affect public opinion on you.

ItsTJeff

Shit. I didn't think about that.  
But to actually answer your question, I am properly sick of him. It's like he's completely forgotten that we are actually trying to be better than Seabury & King. And I actually like being a lawyer, it's just he makes it so frustrating and I don't want to come into work because he's fucking it up.

JemmyM

I mean he's one of the people mucking it up..

ItsTJeff

OH don't get me started on the new interns! Like yeah they're new and yeah they're younger but that doesn't give them an excuse to be incompetent. 

JemmyM

I wholeheartedly agree  
However, they're probably sick of you and Hamilton screaming at each other 

ItsTJeff

I just   
Wish I could catch a break   
I honestly thought quarantine could be a time for me to just have some alone time but.. you can't have nice things here. 

JemmyM

Is he constantly bothering you?

ItsTJeff

No, like we'll give up after some point and we obviously don't jab at each other 24/7 but I can't be properly alone without knowing that Alexander shithead Hamilton is on the other side of my wall. At least I have you to talk to. 

JemmyM

Is there anything you want to talk about? How's your mental health?

ItsTJeff

Meh

JemmyM

Hey what's up? You wanna talk about it?

ItsTJeff

Its dumb

JemmyM

Remember what we said about that? You've been through an extremely difficult situation, nothing you could feel to do with that is dumb or stupid or anything of the sorts. Is it.. about that?

ItsTJeff

Yeah. Yeah it is. Hamilton touched the Moana DVD that I forgot to put in the boxes and I just felt something inside me shatter. And I've just been feeling kinda low all week. 

JemmyM

That is absolutely not dumb. Losing someone is traumatic and an extremely difficult thing to go through. It's little things like these that will make you feel the way you do, anything your brain associates with her. I know now it's gonna be hard because you can't go through this in your own space or with me, but please know that any time this happens I will be here with you. Is there anything you can do right now to make things better?

ItsTJeff

I'm gonna go sit in the driveway for a bit, the sun is out. Talk to you later.

Thomas sat down on the warm grass and buried his hands in his face with a sigh. This week had been a shitshow. The new interns were all over the place. Washington finally had enough of his and Hamilton's screaming so he gave them a row. In front of everyone. Lee and Addams had sent them both mocking texts, which they both responded to with middle finger emojis. Hamilton had made a disgusting stir fry, which they argued about, so Thomas, in response, made Mac'n'cheese, which they also argued about. And after their fight about films, Thomas had felt like he was carrying stones in his chest all week.   
The sun kissed him warmly as Thomas came up for air. He inhaled deeply, letting oxygen flow through his lungs and lay down, his springy hair tangling with the grass.   
'Finally, a moment of peace,' he thought while exhaling, relaxing into the Earth. 

"If you hate "kids films", why do you have Moana on DVD?"   
Thomas was going to slaughter him.

"Huh?" Alexander sat down, cross legged, next to him, trying to prompt a conversation. He was met with silence. He sighed dramatically, "I see. Thomas McFuckface Jeffershit has resorted to the silent treatment." That got him a loud, fed up,exhale.

"I'm not talking to you," he muttered lowly, not even opening his eyes. Alex huffed, groaned way too loudly, stretched and flopped onto the grass. He managed to enjoy the silence for two minutes before poking at Jefferson's patience again.

"I'm taking we're back to making our own dinners?" 

"You've lost my trust after what you made me eat that thing you deemed a stir fry,' Jefferson said blankly, "not that you had my trust anyway." 

"Shut up," Alex mused, "it was good when I made it in cooking class."

"You used a school recipe?" Jefferson exclaimed in disgusted astonishment, "No wonder it tasted shit."

"Hey!" He rose to his elbows, offended, "I survived this long on school recipes. And ramen. And coffee."

"The fact that you're alive is a miracle," Jefferson's voice dropped back to its blunt, low tone. Alex frowned. This was a prime opportunity for Jefferson to speak to him condescendingly, to make a mockery of his talent, and his beliefs for good measure. Something was off.   
Instead of asking about it, he replied with a quiet "mhmm" and lay back down on the grass. 

Alex didn't bring his phone. He had lost track of time and it felt like hours since both of them had spoken. The sun, high in the sky, had warmed his face to the point it was becoming uncomfortable.   
He glanced at his enemy. Jefferson didn't seem bothered by the heat, in fact Alex was convinced he was asleep. 

"Jeffer-,"

"What," the man snapped, still not opening his eyes. Alex pushed back a comment about being rude, and decided to take the conversation in a different direction. 

"You didn't answer my question. From before," he sat up, rubbing his face. Hopefully he didn't get sunburn. "If you supposedly hate kids films, why do you have Moana on DVD?"

"None of your business, dipshit," Jefferson replied dryly, and in one graceful move, stood up and stretched. Alex sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No need to be rude, asshole."

"You know what," Jefferson snapped, giving him a glare that readied Alex for a mouthful of colourful insults and humiliating mockery. Instead he commented promptly "you look even smaller from down here." And left. 

Alex's face burned, and it wasn't because of the sun.

18:00

They glared in mutual disgust at their food, Hamilton shooting daggers at Thomas' leek soup, Jefferson wishing death on his fish fingers, mash and peas. Hamilton ate like a little kid as well as behaved like one.   
Tension danced in the air, one of them was bound to snap and comment. And it wasn't going to be Thomas.

"Can you stop?" Hamilton finally exploded, slamming his fork down on the table. Thomas glanced up behind a spoonful of soup. He shrugged and eyed the man opposite him with a blank glare.

"Stop what?" He asked nonchalantly, swallowing his soup. Could they not have one mutual dinner in peace?

"Can you stop glaring at me? I haven't done anything!" Hamilton stabbed a chip with his fork and shoved into his mouth, chewing angrily. Thomas sighed through his nose, mouth a tight line. 

"Well..," he clicked his tongue, punctuating the 'L', "if you stopped scowling at me like that, maybe I wouldn't feel the need to glare at you." 

"I- Scowling?" Hamilton scoffed, "You started this! You glare at me everywhere I go!" 

"You know what," Thomas gripped his spoon tighter, "Why don't we both just shut up? Let's just eat our dinner in silence, and then we'll go upstairs, and we can spend the rest of this day in peace."   
Hamilton rolled. His eyes.

"Okay mother," Hamilton glowered mockingly. Thomas bared his teeth. Enough.

"Do you always have to act like a child?" He hissed and swallowed more soup to prevent all the insults he'd love to use from slipping out. Hamilton opened his mouth and Thomas prepared for more childish remarks. Instead, the man leaned back, closing his mouth and eyes darting to the side. After a moment of awkward silence, he lifted a finger. Thomas recognised this as his signature 'I'm thinking' move. Before he could ask what he was playing at, he was interrupted with an unexpected question.

"How do you know that's a Tangled quote?" Hamilton finally pointed his finger at Thomas with a growing smirk. Well that… That certainly caught him off guard. 

"What?" Thomas' anger faded, what the hell was happening?

"Tell me, Thomas-,"

"Don't fucking call me by my name," he spat, offended. How dare he. 

"-How do you know that "I love you, I love you more, I love you most" is a Tangled quote?" Hamilton questioned innocently, a small, triumphant smile playing at his lips. Thomas held back a flinch. Alexander Hamilton saying "I love you" in his presence should be illegal.  
Thomas's brain kindly supplied him with the memory of their fight and his stomach dropped. He didn't even realise at the time that he revealed that he knew where the quote was from. 

"I-," his chest started to tighten and Thomas fought bravely to keep his voice steady. That little fucker was pushing the wrong buttons. 

"Hmm?" Hamilton stuffed the last mouthful of peas past his smirking lips and stood up, tidying away his plate and cutlery. Thomas wasn't smiling. He reminded himself that he had to stay calm.

"You have no idea what-." 

"Let me guess," The prick interrupted him again, dumping his plate and fork in the sink. He turned round to face him, leaning against the counter, "Either the great Thomas Jefferson is secretly a sucker for films aimed at kids, but has an astounding case of internalised Disneyphobia or Tangled is your one and only shameful exception."

"Shut up Hamilton," Thomas growled, standing up sharply and disposing of his now empty bowl. 

"Ahah! You're not denying it!" Hamilton pointed at him again, grinning victoriously. Thomas clenched his fists. 

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he repeated, moving towards the hall. He wasn't going to put up with Hamilton's behaviour any longer. 

"Then please fill me in," Hamilton chased after him, blocking his way to the stairs. 

"Move Hamilton," Thomas ordered, lethally quiet. Any minute now and he would seriously lose his patience. The kid had no idea what wounds he was opening.

"Just tell me," he pressed, "I'll stop nagging." 

"Look!" Thomas snapped, taking a step forward. He didn't miss the falter in the younger man's step," I watched it once with someone and I remembered that quote! Are you fucking satisfied?" 

"Who with? Madison?" Hamilton poked at him again. Thomas had to force his fist to unclench.

"Perhaps. Yes," Thomas lied, thinking about her," Why does it matter?" 

"You're lying," Hamilton cocked his head to the side, "What are you hid-."

"Fuck you," Thomas couldn't hold back anymore as he swore, a dangerous warning, "I'm under no obligation to tell you. I'm done."  
And with that, Thomas barged past the small obstacle in his path, sending him into the wall, stomped up the stairs and slammed his door.

MARCH 15, DAY 15 OF QUARANTINE 

02:00

\---  
The TV screen in front of his eyes was nothing but static. Loud and piercing.   
The couch beneath him was coarse and hard. Painful and uncomfortable.  
The room was nothing but grey fog. Clouding his vision and disorientating.  
He tried to move his body. Nothing. Frozen limbs.  
On his shoulder, a head- no. A body. Somebody was leaning on him. Heavy yet comforting.   
He tried to look, to recognise who it was. The face was blurry.   
Dark, springy curls. Baby blue blouse. Ripped jeans.  
"Mar-."  
The TV lit up and something colourful was happening on the screen. He tried to focus on the moving shapes, but his eyes blurred… something wet on his cheek… tears?  
"Mar-," his throat closed and he choked. 

"Thomas. Thomas darling."  
Her soft voice echoed all around the room.   
"I love this movie darling. Won't you watch it with me?"   
He tried to answer, but all that came out was a strangled sob.  
"Thomas."   
He tried to wrench himself from the couch. Suddenly his head unfroze and he turned his head to look at her properly. 

"Thomas."  
She was gone. It wasn't her. It was- 

"Ha-?"  
Hamilton clung to his shoulder, pleading eyes and soft face.

"Thomas? Thomas darling?"   
\---

Thomas sprang awake, panting heavily.   
Oh God. Fuck. Fucking hell.   
His breathing uneven and cheeks wet with tears, he slammed his hand on his pillow, heaving himself up to sit.   
This was inevitable. He hadn't had a nightmare in a while now.   
He reached over for his lamp with shaking hands, hissing when light flooded the room. Thomas curled up, resting his forehead on his knees and worked to get his erratic breathing under control.  
Deep breath.   
In.  
One, two, three, four..  
Out.  
One, two three four.   
Deep breath.   
In.  
One, two, three, four..  
Out.  
One, two three four. 

He exhaled a calmer breath and checked the time. 02:00. Ugh. He sighed heavily. He flopped down onto his pillow. Thomas stopped panicking, but the heavy ache in his chest remained. He clenched his teeth, trying to stave off the sobs building in his throat. It was some time since he last cried properly.   
A heartbroken sob escaped him and he quickly turned to muffle it into his pillow. God forbid he woke Hamilton up. The thought of said man sent a shudder and another sob through his body. He hated his nightmares. He hated Hamilton. He hated everything. He just wanted to-

'Now Thomas, what do we do in situations like these?' The memory of James' voice lingered in his head. He groaned into his pillow. 

"We talk about it or we take our mind off it," Thomas grumbled aloud, voice wavering as he slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of socks. 

And sure enough, after splashing his face with icy water and biting into a Hershey's Milk Chocolate in the kitchen, Thomas found the heavy ache of grief trickling away. He exhaled heavily through his nose, the sweet taste of chocolate overwhelming him. He focused on it, sorely on its strong, sweet taste and the creamy texture. James was most likely asleep, Thomas wasn't going to wake him up when he could deal with this by himself for the time being. Besides, there was little that could make this worse. 

"Fancy meeting you down here."  
Why.  
Thomas had begun to wish he kept his thoughts silent.   
He turned around slowly to glare at Hamilton shuffling into the kitchen. Shoulder length hair in untidy clumps with some rogue strands wildly sticking out, dark circles under the eyes and thin arms wrapping one of Thomas' old, white, Virginia t-shirts around himself in some attempt to cover his rarely exposed skin, Hamilton was a mess. He sniffed awkwardly under Thomas' piercing stare of death. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" He demanded, voice rough like a snarl. The menacing front must have shattered as he took another bite of chocolate. Hamilton cleared his throat, opened the fridge and gulped down a mouthful of Gatorade. 

"Couldn't sleep. You?" 

Alexander didn't expect the deep growl that Jefferson replied with to a harmless question. The man grabbed a glass from the counter and started pouring water for himself. Since Jefferson stayed quiet and drank his water in silence, Alexander took the opportunity to properly look at him. Grey pyjama bottoms creased and crumpled, unusual for Jefferson. Dark springy curls tied up in a loose bun to sleep, striking a frightening resemblance to Lafayette, a hairstyle Alexander hadn't seen on him before. Despite trying not to, Alex couldn't stop nervously glancing at Jefferson's black vest, damp with sweat, sticking to his chest. Or rather his bare arms that looked strong enough to snap his bones at one wrong look. In Alex's honest opinion, he looked like shit. And he wasn't happy.   
The loud slam of the empty glass against wood jerked him back into the kitchen. Jefferson still hadn't given an explanation as to why he was here and was now stalking towards him. Alex picked at the skin of his thumb anxiously. 

"You couldn't sleep," Jefferson repeated, slowly and with a clenched jaw, "Or did you hear me get up and decided to jump at the opportunity to annoy me?" 

"What?" Alex frowned. His brain kindly reminded him of the message that was sitting ready to send to Lafayette and Hercules, "No I just- I couldn't sleep so I came down here to get a drink." Before Jefferson could respond, Alex interjected with, "Ah but of course, I am set out on a mission to make your life unbearable. Not everything revolves around you Jefferson."  
Jefferson had stopped in front of him, looking down on his pathetic attempts at establishing dominance with bared teeth.

"Uhuh. Coming from you. Fucking hypocrite. Get your act together Hamilton," the man snarled, coming so close that their chests touched. Alexander shied away only slightly, shaking his head. This was definitely a new side of Jefferson, one he wasn't keen on seeing again.

"Something's up with you man," Alexander remarked, a little breathless, "You've either been extra salty or extra quiet. Whats the matter with you?" Jefferson had often been intimidating, invasive or trying to be the bigger guy at work, but not like this. This version of Jefferson was… aggressive. Something was definitely up.

"Shut up. Why do you care?" 

"I don't," Alex shot back immediately, "I'm just making an honest observation."

"Listen to me you little bastard," Jefferson raised his voice and Alexander couldn't hold back the shiver, "If we actually want to make this situation bearable, can we put our differences aside?"

"Well Thomas," Alexander dared through gritted teeth, putting a mocking emphasis on the jerk's name, "that's what I'm clearly trying to do but you're not letting me."

"I've told you before, don't call me by my fucking name," Jefferson's fist clenched and Alex swallowed, no not nervously, just to push away the tiny flares of alarm that were dancing in his stomach. 

"If we are to live together, I can't just ignore the fact that somethings up!"

"You know nothing," Jefferson spat, backing him against the kitchen wall. He swallowed again. 

"Then tell me," Alex insisted, before working up the inner courage to plant his small hands on Jefferson's chest and shove, "Get out of my personal space."  
The man barely budged, but the offended look on his face was enough for Alex to realise that he may end up regretting that. 

"Don't fucking shove me!" Jefferson hissed threateningly. 

"What the hell is up with you?" Alexander tried again, covering the voice crack with a cough. He should go back upstairs. 

"Hamilton-."

"Just tell me! I can help you!"

"Just shut the fuck up."

"I-."

SLAP!

It took Alex a bit to realise what had happened. He gasped out a shaky breath.  
Sharp, stinging pain erupted on his cheek. He raised a trembling fingertip to touch at the hot patch of skin, hissing weakly and recoiling. He risked a glance at Jefferson.   
Even Jefferson looked stricken. The threatening fire wasn't entirely gone from his eyes, but the shock started overtaking the aggressive undertones. They both turned their gazes to Jefferson's hand, still hovering by Alex's face.   
Jefferson had big hands, and he could hit hard.   
Alexander blinked back involuntary tears and shied away to the side from his looming presence. He swallowed thickly for the third time within the hour and dug his voice out from the depths of his fluttering chest.  
"G-Goodnight Jefferson." God why did his voice have to tremble like that? He turned on his heel and fled from the kitchen.

"I-," Jefferson's voice was a distant, faded sound as Alex bound up the stairs, trying his best not to trip. 

"I said goodnight!"

03:00

Alex stared at the ceiling, still unable to sleep. Jefferson had slapped him. Their fights at work didn't get physical often, and if they did, Jefferson would grab him by the collar while Alex would shoot out and dig his nails into his wrist until he let go. Or if Washington and Madison pried them apart.   
God tomorrow was going to be awkward. He sighed and unlocked his phone.   
^Save your memo or delete?^  
Ah right. The message. He might as well get it over with. He was ready. And of course he was nervous, but that was normal according to the six YouTube videos, eight blogs, twenty Tumblr posts, thirty Tweets and John.   
He pressed Save, copied the message and pasted it into the chat with John, Lafayette and Hercules. He pressed send. Then he flung his phone to the other side of the bed and buried his face into his pillow. And sobbed. 

RoastHam

Hey so there's something I need to tell you guys. John already knows, please don't be mad at me but if you are then that's fine. I think I'm bisexual. And I'm still me. Hopefully we can still all stay friends, since you guys were cool with John but yeah I'm bi and please don't let that change anything between us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please please give me feedback whether that be positive or negative, I need to know if you guys are liking this or if I should change anything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of a heated night brings impacts, only are they for better or for worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My town just became a Tier 4 sector, which is the highest level of restrictions in the land of the Scots :)))))));
> 
> Here's a chapter, is it good? Probably not.

MARCH 20, DAY 20 OF QUARANTINE

15:00

"Hey guys," Alexander swallowed nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists at the sides of his legs. His laptop camera fortunately couldn't pick that up. 

"Alex, hey," John's smile that he hadn't seen in what felt like years made his stomach do somersaults, "Been a while since I've seen that beautiful face of yours."   
His fingernails dug into his skin.

"My friends!" Lafayette joined the call, his tired, smiling face popping up next to John's, "I'm still alive!" 

"Hellooooo!" Hercules' pixelated beanie appeared onscreen, "I know my camera is acting up so my beanie is all you're getting."

"Yo yo guys! We're all here!" John smiled wildly with a clap of his hands,"how are we all?"

"Actually," Lafayette interrupted gently, "Before we start catching up, there's something Hercules and I would like to say." 

"Yes there is," Hercules agreed, "Alex, I would like to say that you are so brave for coming out to us, I know we all talked about this on the chat but Laf and I really wanted to tell you in person as well." 

"Oh my God you guys," Alex hid his reddening face in his hands. He giggled in embarrassment.

"Remember mon ami, we are your friends and we are here to listen to you and support you. You know we won't judge you right?" Lafayette continued and Alexander stared at his keyboard. 

"Thank you guys so much, this is still confusing for me, figuring labels out and stuff," Alex cleared his throat loudly, "now before I melt, how are YOU guys doing?" 

They talked for a while, the state of John's hair, Lafayette complaining about the fact he ran out of orange juice, Hercules showing off grainy images of newly-sewn trousers, John moaning about wanting a turtle face mask and Lafayette screeching about a French rom-com that ended abruptly.   
Then Hercules asked the question Alexander was dreading.

"Alex, how is living with you know who?" He asked carefully and the call went silent, awaiting an answer on the prickly subject. Alexander laughed grimly, then sighed heavily.

"It's uh. Well. It could be a lot worse in my opinion. But it's still bad. We fight all the time. Over everything," he pursed his lips in displeasure, "It's like… we're essentially walking on minefields. If we don't fight, we're "silent treatmenting" each other." 

"Is he violent? Lafayette asked seriously and Alexander shrugged. 

"Not.. really."

"'Not really' is in no or 'not really' as in he still does it just not that often?" Lafayette continued pressing.

"I mean he did slap me but it was only once," he blurted out. Hercules' face was barely visible, but the dangerous look on Lafayette and John started to grow.

"He SLAPPED you?" John yelled incredulously, murder glinting in his eyes.

"Once! And by accident I'm pretty sure! I don't think he was meant to slap me," Alexander interjected quickly. 

"Why are you defending him?" Lafayette slammed his hands on his knees, "Accident or not, he still physically assaulted you. Did he at least apologise?" 

"No," Alexander shook his head, "the first two days we were kinda quiet and withdrawn from each other, but for the rest of the week it went without getting acknowledged. We just continued our 'walking on minefields' way of living."

"Did you not talk about it? At all?" John asked in disbelief. Alex shook his head again. 

"We need to get you out of there mon ami," Lafayette insisted, "I don't care if it happens once. Or on accident. Jefferson has shown that he can be violent. If you irritate him enough, he could seriously hurt you."

"I'm grateful that you guys are concerned, but how would I even get out of here?" Alex raised his arms in resignation, "It would take me around four hours to walk to Washington Heights from Brooklyn. I'll get sent back, and if anyone sees me in a police car that could stir up rumours about an arrest. And that's the last thing I need."

"What if someone drives you?" Hercules offered, "John I know you're out because we were meant to get your car fixed before...all of this. And I know for a fact I will run out of fuel before I even reach Brooklyn." 

"Jefferson sold his car and Madison can't drive, swear that guy has every medical condition under the sun," Alexander added, scrolling through his contacts, "There's Washington. Or Burr. I doubt John Adams or Charles Lee would sacrifice their precious time for me but it's worth a shot." 

"Send them a text. Ask them if they're up for it. You can both wear a face covering to make it safer," said John, enthusiasm starting to build. 

"I think a lot of people will have the same problem though," Lafayette sighed, "nobody has their fuel tank full, or full enough, to make an hour long journey. My car barely made it into my driveway. Petrol procrastination is something I will never do again." 

"Still worth the shot," Alexander muttered, pulling his phone out from his hoodie pocket and started to type a message.

I need a favour. I'm in a situation where I can't leave Brooklyn, are you in a position and comfortable possibly driving me home? It's an hour drive.   
*Forwarded to GWash, ABurr, CLee and JAddams*

"If those four options don't work, what the hell am I gonna do?" He turned the vibrations on and set the phone aside. 

After a few moments of silent thought processes, Hercules piped up with an idea.

"Okay, hear me out," he said, probably spreading out his pixelated hands, "What if… you post an ad on Facebook?" 

Alex frowned, nobody used Facebook except old people.  
"Nobody uses Facebook," Alex argued, dismissing the idea too quickly.

"Except old people right?" Hercules carried on, "and old people probably don't use their car as often." 

"And?" Alex's brain worked for a few moments before he caught on, "Ohhhh." 

"Since they use their car less, they'll probably have more petrol in their cars," Lafayette finished, nodding his head along, "Good thinking my friend. I think you should expand to other platforms too." 

"That's a plan, if anyone even sees it," Alexander opened his notes app, starting to write, "I'll present this idea to Jefferson, it's not as if he'll keep me here." 

They talked for another hour, conversations ranging from giggling hysterically about memes and jokes to the deep philosophy of The Bee Movie. In the meantime, Alexander got his replies.

ABurr   
Sorry Hamilton, my car's fuel tank is practically empty 

GWash  
My car won't make that long a distance without stopping in the middle of the road. Sorry son.

CLee  
Fend for yourself 

JAddams   
Fuck off

16:30

"...And I will absolutely tell Jefferson about the offer. You guys are amazing," Alexander smiled at his friends. He wouldn't trade them for the world.   
A chorus of goodbyes brought a last smile to his face, before the screen went black and Alexander mentally prepared himself for negotiating for his freedom. 

Thomas pushed the laptop off his thighs. He blinked hard, relieving some strain from his eyes. He couldn't care less if a last minute email from a client or from Washington came through, he was done. He reclined back on the couch. Knowing this peaceful facade all to well, Hamilton would come in to bother him any minute-

"Jefferson?" 

-now. Thomas sighed deeply through his nose.

"Shithead. What do you want?" He didn't look at him, simply acknowledging his presence. He couldn't be bothered, not now. 

"Can we talk? I have an idea." 

"Oh? And what innovative idea is this Hamilton?" Thomas scowled, fully expecting a shitty offer to spend time together out of sheer boredom and as a last resort. 

"I may have a way to get home."  
Now this, this intrigued him.  
Thomas sat up properly and looked at him. No smirk, no glint in his eyes- oh. Hamilton was being serious. 

"You have my undivided attention," Thomas said sincerely, even going out of his way to turn his body fully towards Hamilton and sit cross legged. 

"Well," Hamilton mused, leaning against the living room door frame, "I'm thinking if I put out an ad, on multiple social media platforms, to pick me up from Brooklyn to Washington Heights in any way they see comfortable, and I can pay for petrol and stuff. Someone might volunteer."   
Thomas' brain worked for a few moments, processing the idea. 

"Hmm," Thomas hummed, genuinely thinking. At this point Thomas was willing to try anything to get rid of the annoying bas- housemate, "I mean… I'm- I think you should try it. Truthfully we'd both be better off in our.. respective households." That came out more awkwardly then he intended. Hamilton caught onto it and narrowed his eyes. He pushed himself away from the wood of the frame and crossed his arms.

"So you think I should do it?" Hamilton moved in front of him, an eyebrow raised. Thomas sighed softly and looked up at him, an honest, deadpan expression on his face. 

"I mean be honest Hamilton. You don't want to be here. And there isn't much chance that we're gonna suddenly become friends right?" He admitted. Hamilton scoffed lightly and shook his head. 

"I think my death will come sooner before we become friends," he commented, whipping out his phone. Thomas didn't reply, only watched silently as Facebook, Twitter and Instagram feeds became visible from his angle on the couch. Someone was bound to be available… 

Thomas didn't want to call the silence awkward, but he ran out of options. Hamilton tapping out a digital SOS while Thomas tried to ignore the tension gave him time to think. Guilt began to creep up on him again...

"Well, that's my bottle tossed into the sea," Hamilton cleared his throat and slipped his phone into the pocket of Thomas' old jeans, "Since we have that sorted I'll head back upstai-." 

"Hamilton, wait," Thomas blurted out as the man started to move into the hallway. Hamilton whipped back around with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I…," he started sheepishly, before clearing his throat stiffly, "I wanted to apologise."

Hamilton leaned forward, disbelief blossoming over his face, "You're apologising? That's new. What are you even apologising for?" 

"I…," Thomas sighed, hesitating for a moment before going all in, "I shouldn't have slapped you."  
This caught Hamilton off guard. He raised an eyebrow, all sarcastic amusement gone. He looked away, then back at Thomas.

"Took you a bit." 

"Listen," Thomas stood up from the couch and folded his arms, "My points still stand. You're an annoying asshole. I can't stand you. I hate you," he forced the approaching angry flares away from his tone, "but I shouldn't have slapped you."   
The silence was tense and deafening. And Thomas couldn't wait for Hamilton to reply any longer.   
"I just- I wasn't in a great place mentally, I know that's not an excuse but…," Thomas trailed off. Now he really ran out of words.  
Hamilton simply stood and stared. Thomas was certain he was uncertain on how to proceed with this.   
'Say something damnit,' He didn't know if that inner voice of his was directed at Hamilton or at himself. 

"Alright," Hamilton shrugged after decades of silence. Thomas looked up in disbelief. That was it? No… no protesting or pointless comments?

"Alright? What do you mean, 'alright?'" 

"I mean alright, I accept your apology," Hamilton shrugged blankly. A strange silence set over them again, but was quickly broken again by Hamilton speaking up awkwardly, "You know.. If you want to talk, I'm not that big of an asshole." 

Oh no no no. Thomas wasn't falling for this a second time.  
"I'm not doing this again, fuck off." Thomas set his course for his room and made his move. Of course Hamilton had to get a word in edgeways.

"I'm only trying to help-."

"I said. Fuck. Off," He raised his voice threateningly. Hamilton thankfully took the hint and backed off, slipping away into the kitchen. 

"Okay. Fine. Jeez," he wasn't moving into that kitchen fast enough, and frankly, Thomas didn't care for the man's raised arms in surrender. 

"Go!"

“Okay!” Hamilton screeched, fully escaping into the kitchen and out of Thomas’ sight.   
Asshat. 

18:00

“Alright. Jeremy? 

“Animated movies by character. Two hundred please.”

“2001. Donkey. Mary?”

“Shrek!” Alex mumbled, selecting a particularly fat potato wedge and biting into it. 

“What is Shrek,” she answered, and as childish as it seemed, Alexander smirked for getting it first, “Women in history for two hundred please.” 

“She said of refusing to give up her seat, “The only tired I was, was tired of giving in. Jeremy.” 

“What is Rosa Parks,” Jeremy said confidently, Alexander cursed in defeat, “Animated movies, for hundred please.” 

“1967, Shere Khan, a tiger.” 

“The Jungle Book!” Alexander shot out, pointing at the screen with a wedge. 

“What is A Jungle Book,” the contest adjusted his glasses,” Animated movies, six hundred.” 

“It’s THE Jungle Book not A Jungle Book kind sir,” Alex mentally gave himself another point.

“1991. Gaston.” 

“Beauty and the-,” Alexander’s enthusiastic quiz skills were cut off.

“Jeopardy. Really?” 

“Uhuh,” he nodded with a mouthful of potato, “Wassup dickwad?” 

“Are you seriously eating potato wedges? Again?” Jefferson scolded before pulling open the fridge and taking out, of course, a bottle of green juice. Alexander grimaced in disgust at the particles of unknown green substances floating around in murky green liquid. Yuck. 

“Ex-cuse me, what do you have against potato wedges?” he twisted round on the couch, casting the sounds of the TV aside, “Also you can’t talk Mr Fifty Shades of Green.”

“Why,” Jefferson sighed loudly, “Why did you have to compare it to the Fifty Shades Trilogy. Because it’s good, and it’s healthy. That’s why.”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” Alexander muttered under his nose, chewing on the last wedge and brushing flakes of baked potato off his- technically Jefferson’s, grey hoodie. This unfortunately got the twat’s attention. 

“Wait a minute,” Jefferson abandoned the gross bottle of juice on the counter and in one Jefferson-sized stride appeared next to Alexander, gawking at the grey hoodie, “Is that the toothpaste stain from that first Zoom meeting?” 

Alex glanced down and indeed, there was a white patch on the front, just underneath the collar. “Yup.”

“And um,” Jefferson’s voice bordered on outrage, “How many days passed since then?” 

It took Alex a solid two minutes to count on his fingers before replying with a hasty “Twenty.” 

“And you still haven’t washed it?” Jefferson enquired, reminding Alex of a typical mother, specifically Lafayette’s mother, “ What about the green one? When was that last washed?” 

“Hmmm,” Alex pondered on that, shuffling through pointless information in his brian, “January?” 

“January,” Jefferson repeated, dangerously quiet. Oh shit. Alexander sprang up from the couch and maneuvered a path into the kitchen to dispose of his plate, careful to avoid passing Jefferson in fear of slaughter.   
“Yes now if I just go back upstairs and get on with my day-,” he was stopped by Jefferson’s tall and muscly body blocking his path. 

“I’m afraid,” Jefferson began, “Both grey and green hoodie are due for a wash. And if I have to pry them off your stinking body by force, I will.” 

“Very funny mother,” Alex tried to dodge past him, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Go put those hoodies in the wash now or so help me God Hamilton, you will regret ever not washing them,” The man pointed in the direction of the downstairs bathroom with the washing machine, “Now.” 

"You're not the boss of me," he scoffed. Alex's energetic dive under Jefferson's arm failed again and he was stuck. At least the guy wasn't shoving him again, only blocking him purely with his body mass. 

"Hamilton, do you remember what I said on your first day?" Jefferson snapped, raising his eyebrows, "My house, my rules. I won't have you inhabiting my palace of excellence in dirty clothes. And because you're a child in a barely matured adult's body, I have to baby you and keep track of your laundry, as well as your eating habits. Now do your goddamn laundry."   
The man lifted his arms and let him out of the living room, and Alex made his escape into the bathroom. 

"Look! They're in the washing machine! Are you fucking happy now?" Alexander slammed the button down and the loud sound of water sloshing around overtook his screeching. 

"Yes. Yes I am," Jefferson sighed loudly, crossing his arms while leaning against the bathroom wall, "You know, you do all your normal laundry, why can't you do the same here?"

"Because I like hoodies. And I only have those two for the moment," he pouted and unconsciously tugged at the sleeves of Jefferson's old, faded Star Wars t-shirt to cover his bare arms. For the fourth time. The shirt was small on Jefferson, but the short sleeves almost reached Alexander's elbows. The man was freakishly tall and it showed in moments like these. 

"Don't even think about stealing my magenta one," Jefferson unfortunately caught his pout and the roll of his eyes, "Do I seriously need to baby you every time you can't be bothered to do simple tasks?" 

"Shut up Jefferson," Alexander darted out of the bathroom, setting his course for his room. He was sick of his house mate's constant picking on him, he needed peace and quiet. Specifically, he wanted John here. John was always there when he needed a hug or support. John could always make him laugh. John always made his heart beat faster but he never knew why. This wasn't even so much about living with Thomas asshole Jefferson. It hit him right there on the staircase that this pandemic was real and that there was no word as to when it would end and there was no telling when he'd see John or anyone other than Thomas goddamn fucking Jefferson-

"Hey. Hey! Did you listen to a word I just said?"   
Jefferson's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts like an axe. Alexander snapped his head up from staring into space, or just the bannister. Jefferson looked… annoyed. He was expecting something. An answer. An answer to a rattling speech about Alexander's immaturity that he did not hear a word of. 

"No," Alexander answered honestly with a smirk and bounded up the stairs. Jefferson's insults were lost behind him.

20:00

RoastHam

Idk, it's been a few weeks and he doesn't know I found the blouse. I wanna ask him about it but I don't want to force him to come out, if he is gay.

TurtleBoi

Speaking of no hetero, is it okay if I ask what made you realise?  
Its okay if you don't want to talk about it 

Alex's eyes darted away from the screen and onto the darkening world outside the living room window. It did a great job of adding some change to his four walls of the storage-turned-bedroom space, as well as distracting him from the burning question. He didn't have to tell John the whole truth. He wanted to, some day, but not today. 

RoastHam

Idk after Eliza asked me out I said yes because I thought admiration was attraction, yeah?

TurtleBoi

Yeah, Yeah I get it. Early teen years right there

RoastHam

And I was thinking why I wasn’t feeling what Eliza was feeling. You know, like Eliza is asexual but she still feels romantic attraction. And she was saying how her heart flutters and stuff, and I didn’t feel that. And I started thinking why, like really thinking. And I guess you could say that I saw someone in a new light, and I asked myself, like honestly asked myself, am I straight? Because I think I still like girls, I just didn't know I liked guys.

TurtleBoi

God you write so poetically 

RoastHam

Shushh 

Alexander smiled shyly, glad he was alone in the living room. He would have died on the spot if Jefferson caught him grinning like that. 

TurtleBoi

Hold on hold on. "Saw someone in a new light?" Do you like som-

Unfortunately, Alexander didn't see the rest of it as his phone suddenly shot upwards. Panicked, he rammed his finger on the "off" button before it disappeared completely from his grasp. He twisted round in surprise.  
Of fucking course.

Thomas saw his chance and pounced on his prey. And now, he had managed to snatch Hamilton's phone from his grabby little hands.

"Hey!" Hamilton exclaimed, glaring at him, "What the hell Jefferson?" 

"I'm assuming you didn't hear me call on you?" Hamilton didn't reply, so Thomas continued, "I took the hoodies out of the wash since you can't be bothered doing shit independently."  
Hamilton leapt up from the couch and scrambled in front of Thomas.

"Yes okay now give me my phone," he reached up to take the phone. A wicked idea crossed Thomas' mind and lifted it higher. Now the phone was just out of Hamilton's reach. The smaller gave him a look of death. Thomas smirked.

"What? Can't reach?" Thomas mocked, lifting it higher as Hamilton wobbled on his toes.

"Seriously man?" Hamilton's face was gradually turning red as he stretched his limbs to reach for his phone, "Give me it!" 

"Oh come on Hamilton," he laughed shrilly when Hamilton actually jumped to reclaim his phone. Thomas lifted his arm as high as it would go, "What's on here that could be so important? I don't even know your passcode."

"Give me my fucking phone," the man hissed and grabbed Thomas' arm, trying to yank it down while digging his nails into the patch of skin not covered by magenta fabric.   
Suddenly the phone vibrated and lit up, drawing their attention. Hamilton's eyes glistened with panic more than anger now, eyeing the screen in dread. Thomas observed in curiosity. 

"Who are you texting huh? Who's the girl?" Thomas shifted his body so that Hamilton had no access to his arm and swiped his thumb down on the lit up screen to view the notification. 

"No Jefferson don't-," Thomas loudly talked over Hamilton's panicked pleading. 

"TurtleBoi. Do you like someone? Oooo who's your crush?" He read out and gasped in shock, "I was right! You do have a girl on your mind!" 

Hamilton didn't respond, he did however retreat away from Thomas' body. His face was red and his eyes burned into the carpet. 

"Just.. just give me it." 

"Oh come on, who is it? What's her name?" Thomas pressed with a wolfish grin. Any blackmail content against Hamilton was very much appreciated.

"Jefferson just give me my fucking phone," Hamilton blurted out quickly. At that moment, the phone lit up again. 

TurtleBoi

Do I know him?

Thomas read the message out loud. And that was the exact moment when he realised what was happening. Hamilton wasn't crushing on a girl. It was a guy. His smirk fell away and he looked down at the humiliated mess that Hamilton had become. 

"Uh," he stuttered, slowly bringing his arm back to his waist, "Hamilton I- I didn't mean-." 

Hamilton grabbed the phone seemingly quicker than light and breathed in a shaky inhale.

"Shut up. You knew what you were doing," Hamilton muttered angrily, voice wobbling. He clutched the phone close to him and stormed out of the living room.   
Thomas stared after him, wide eyed and heart beating. The former excitement from annoying Hamilton had shattered. He..   
He had outed him.   
Thomas had gone too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much for the feedback, I love hearing from you guys!!   
> Also if you find a plot bunny or something that doesn't make sense PLEASE let me know and I will fix it.  
> Do you have a trope or an idea for a scene? Let me know !!  
> That said, stay safe and don't hesitate to comment :))


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas fucked up. But can he tidy up the mess he made
> 
> TW - minor blood and injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this was meant to be here a lot sooner, but COVID, bad mental health and exams looked at me and thought: It's free real estate.
> 
> Anyway, here you are, Chapter 8, enjoy

MARCH 30 DAY 30

17:00

TurtleBoi

Hold on hold on. "Saw someone in a new light?" Do you like someone?  
Oooo who's your crush?  
Do I know him?

You've not replied in a while, I'm sorry I didn't mean to push. 

Alex?

~Sun 22 March 2020 02:43~

RoastHam

I'm really sorry I didn't reply John  
Jefson took my phone just as you texted me and read the message out loud. So now he knows. I've been living in a state of existentialial panic ever since and avoiding him. And I just reliised that I left you on read and I'm so sory but i don thik im redy to tel u ihopethasokay

TurtleBoi

Hey, of course. You’ll tell me whenever you’re ready. Also, Thomas Jefferson better apologise within the week or I will personally bash him with a two metre, socially distanced, metal pole. I see you’re tired, talk in the morning?

Alexander cringed at his appalling spelling. Blurry eyes from tears and lack of sleep wasn’t an excuse in his books.  
He stared at the conversation for the eleventh time and wiped at his eyes. How could he be so damn stupid to text with his back to the door? Now Jefferson knew. He wasn't ever supposed to know. Oh god what if Jefferson uses this against him in court? What if he's a homophobe? What if he throws him out, refusing to live with a homosexual such as himself-  
And now there was a second part to this, John knew he had a crush. What if John figured it out? He was smart after all, that’s what Alex loved about him. He was also funny. And dorky and pretty and supportive and his best friend-

Alexander shook his head. He wasn't having this conversation with himself a thirtieth time.  
He instead exited Messenger and checked Facebook. No new comments under his offer. Alexander was well aware that he’d get a notification if there was any new activity, however he was having too bad a time to actually remember that. He sighed in resignation and edited the post. He added “DM me ASAP if available.” It wouldn’t do much, however Alexander was beginning to grow desperate in his head.  
He had to get out of here. 

No more than thirty minutes of mindless Instagram scrolling later, Alexander got the fright of his life when 'Never Gonna Give You Up' blasted through his crappy speaker. GWash calling. Alexander gingerly answered it. 

“Hello?” 

“Alexander my boy. How are things?” Washington always sounded softer when he was talking to only Alex. This time was no different. 

“Ah.. I’m.. fine. Working online isn’t actually that bad once you get the jist of it,” he lied and forced the tone of voice to not be as… miserable, “After you sort out all the junior associates.”

“True,” Washington chuckled grimly, “And two, certain, arguing, top US lawyers.”  
Alexander grimaced. Their recent Zoom calls had been filled with extra venom. 

“True,” he echoed, picking at his fingernails. His boss must have sensed the hesitation.

“Speaking of, two, certain, arguing, top US lawyers… How are you boys getting along?” Washington carefully asked the question Alex wasn’t looking forward to answering, “I um.. I saw that you added ‘DM me ASAP’ to your message.” 

“Yeah uh- it’s um- It’s not going great sir, I gotta say,” Alex stuttered, careful not to over exaggerate the situation. 

“Do I need to send him an email?” The tone of voice changed on the other end of the line and Alex jumped to save himself from humiliation for being a snitch. 

“No no! We’re just.. very different. And Jefferson is an asshole.”

“Alex,” His boss scolded and Alexander rolled his eyes, thankful Washington couldn’t see him. 

“It’s true! He has no respect for me!”

A sigh. “How was this week?”

“Well uh, something happened and I’ve been awkwardly avoiding him and staying quiet,” he said quietly, careful to not be overheard. 

“Do you want to talk to me about it?” 

“I’d.. rather not,” Panic short circuited his brain for a moment. He couldn’t tell Washington, not yet, “It’s not… He didn’t hurt me or anything, we just fell out, really really bad.” 

“I see. Is there any way you two could just… try to put your differences aside?” Oh Washington has asked this question so many times that if Alex had a dollar for every time he asked, he wouldn’t need to work. And every time he asked it was in that same, careful tone, just as the one he was using now. It was very evident to everyone that Washington was fed up to the core of their constant fighting. 

“I do try, but he isn’t letting me!” Alexander protested, cautious not to let his voice stray too loud. 

“I see there is no point trying to get you two to be friends,” His boss paused with a hint of resignation, “Thomas Jefferson aside, are you staying healthy? No symptoms, I hope?”

“Oh yeah. Both of us are healthy and ok.”

“That’s great to hear. My wife just came out of a four day stay-in-bed sick season.”

“Is it?...” Alex trailed off. It was almost as if the name of the wretched virus itself could bring bad luck.

“We don’t know, but she’s better now and she’s in the kitchen making oatmeal raisin cookies. Her anxiety group is encouraging new hobbies and she insisted she try baking,” Washington explained with a fond chuckle. 

“Well. Give her my regards. Enjoy your cookies sir,” Alex said warmly. 

“Thank you my boy. Do not hesitate to call me if you need to talk.”

“I swear I’m fine,” he lied while glancing at the door. He added a nervous laugh for good measure. 

“Alright,” Washington sounded skeptical. “Enjoy the rest of your day son.”

“Bye,” Alex hastily disconnected the call, stuffed the phone into his pocket, flew to the door and strained his ear.  
He couldn’t hear any movement to indicate he’d been overheard. Good.  
Alexander sighed in relief and moved away.

He straightened out, stretching his back and listening to it crack. He was ahead with work. He was too paranoid to call his friends. Watching TV downstairs wasn’t an option. Not if it meant interacting with Thomas shit faced, asshole, jerk and certified dick, Jefferson. 

Alexander decided to properly look around the storage room Jefferson had been oh so kind to lend him.  
His mind drifted to the blouse he found in the laundry basket. Curiosity was gnawing at the back of his mind. However asking Jefferson seemed like a death sentence. So John and Alex were left to speculate and theorise. The most popular ones were that either Thomas Jefferson had a feminine side, Thomas Jefferson had a secret drag career or that Thomas Jefferson had forgotten to get rid of everything belonging to a past girlfriend or one night stand. All three were equally popular. 

Alex turned towards the stacked boxes, shifted the open one to the side and carefully pulled the blouse out from where he had hidden it. It was truly a lovely colour. The colour of the sky on one of those days with no clouds and the sun is not too hot to be uncomfortable, but warm enough to be pleasant.  
Alex gently traced the delicate lace flowers around the sleeves, following the elaborate petals with a fingertip. The touch of soft silk in the middle of the blouse was calming and soothing; Alexander made a mental note to add silk to his list of de-stressors.  
He brought the beautiful blouse to his nose, and while reassuring himself that he wasn't being a creep, and inhaled hesitantly. Sure, it smelled like dust and old clothes, however behind that the faint trace of lemon could be detected. 

Alexander decided to stop there; if Jefferson decided to burst in this would look very wrong.  
With one hand he lifted the open box and carefully hid the blouse underneath it with the other. Then his eyes caught onto the corner of a book peaking out from folds of cardboard.  
Was this considered snooping?  
'Absolutely, ' Alexander thought as he cautiously shuffled closer to the open box, stood on his toes and looked inside. 

The contents were disorganised after Jefferson had shuffled them about.  
An old pair of sports shoes, huge and Jefferson sized. An envelope labelled 'Bank Statements.' A marble. A handful of blunt pencils. A dusty deck of UNO. Lidless permanent markers. And, among other things, the book that was sticking out, A Beginner's Guide To Flowers. Interesting.  
Alexander snaked his hand into the box and carefully fished out the book, mindful not to send dust flying everywhere. He didn't like the texture, the cover was odd and chalky and the pages brittle. Added with the blanket of dust, Alexander decided to stop snooping. Without moving his finger from the pages, he let the book slide back into the box. 

And it was too late to stop the crinkly yet still sharp paper edge slicing through his skin and drawing blood.  
"Aah FUCK!" Alexander hissed as searing pain exploded on his fingertip. He jumped back and cradled the bleeding skin to his chest. Of course Jefferson's books would give him killer papercuts, of fucking course. 

While pinching the cut to not bleed all over his palm and to stop the pain, Alex looked around frantically for tissues or a plaster. None in sight.  
Alex assumed there would be a minimal First Aid Kit or medicine cabinet somewhere in the house, kitchen or bathroom perhaps. However that meant leaving his room, possibly having to interact with Thomas fuckwit Jefferson.  
He briefly contemplated wrapping his finger in his- Jefferson's t-shirt, however this one was white, with "Virginia" in big, blue letters. It will be very visible, and it might even stain.  
Alex let go of his finger, hissing at the stinging pain and watched the blood trickle down his palm. Fuck, this cut was deep. He could always suck at it, but that usually only worked on small cuts. He sighed heavily, pinched the cut again and cautiously opened the door. Downstairs it was.  
Alexander snuck downstairs and into the kitchen on his toes, trying desperately not to make a noise. To his luck, the kitchen and living room were empty. 

'Jefferson must be upstairs,' he concluded as he scanned the kitchen. There was no first aid kit in sight. Alex clenched his fist around the bleeding index finger and with the other hand opened the first, sleek, black cabinet that he could reach. Plates. He moved to the next one. Mugs and cups. The next cabinet was packed with pasta, oil, flour, sugar and a suspiciously high amount of baking supplies. Alex crouched down to look into the fourth cabinet. He was met with bottles of cough medicine, scented oils, vitamins and painkillers, a roll of bandages and…

"Jackpot," he whispered as he reached into the cabinet to carefully slide the plasters towards him. He picked out a small, rectangular plaster, stood up and closed the cabinet with his hips. 

First he stuck his blood smeared hand into the sink, hissing as the cold water washed away most of the red liquid. The cut was large, big for a simple paper cut and an angry dark reddish colour. Alexander turned the water off and dried his skin with a paper towel. Next, he unwrapped the plaster and applied it onto his shaking finger. After securing that the plaster was applied properly, he threw the plaster wrapper into the bin.  
Then he bolted back upstairs.  
After almost tripping on the stairs, he swung around the bannister and ran to his storage room. Almost there, almost there-  
A door opened behind him. Fuck.

Thomas squirted soap onto his hands and started rubbing. He was forever grateful that he had two bathrooms; one upstairs and one downstairs. Thomas didn't want to admit that he was lazy from time to time, but having a bathroom right next to his room saved him a lot of effort that he didn't want to waste.

To be fair, there was a lot he didn't want to admit.  
Like the fact that he should really talk and apologise to Hamilton. At first he hoped this would be like that horrible night where Thomas lost control and slapped him; awkward at first, then things go back to normal, finally he apologises.  
Not this time. All week, Hamilton had been so quiet that sometimes Thomas had forgotten they were in the same room or on the same Zoom. He wasn't silent, only speaking when it was necessary or when he was disagreeing with him on a call in a dull voice. However the new, quiet Hamilton disturbed him. Yes, he was an asshole and Thomas would give anything for the midget to shut up sometimes. This was different. This was the insect voluntarily shutting up, not Thomas winning an argument and leaving him defeated. Thomas didn't want to admit it, but he felt bad. Guilty even.

Who was he kidding? Hamilton had shut up because Thomas had hurt him, actually hurt him.  
He should really stop washing his hands, they've been under the water for over two minutes.  
Thomas switched the water off and buried his palms into the rough towel, aggressively scrubbing at them to make them dry.  
He needed to say something. How he was going to say it, that was still up for debate.  
Thomas opened the bathroom door.  
And speak of the devil, there was Alexander Hamilton, in person about to go into his room, before he turned round and looked him dead in the eye.  
Ah shit.

"Hamilton!" Thomas called out, starting to stride towards the man, "Hamilton, wait!"  
Hamilton's face fell into panic as he burst into his room and slammed the door behind him. Thomas was too late, his hand collided against the wood as the door shut in his face. He sighed. Damn it.  
His forehead fell onto the smooth, white surface. This time, he won't let him hide. Thomas hesitantly placed his hand on the handle, pressed down and pushed.  
The door hit something and bounced back. So, Hamilton had barricaded himself in. He was going to have to talk.

"Hamilton? Please can I come in?" He asked, loudly so that Hamilton could hear him and cautiously, he still had no idea what to say. 

"Go away," Hamilton's muffled voice reached his ears. Thomas couldn't tell what Hamilton's tone was, the phrase was spoken so dull and bluntly. He sighed again.

"Listen," he started, but cut off. How could he fix this? A silence fell and he could hear Hamilton shuffling around. 

"I'm listening," Hamilton responded, and by the faint squeak of springs, Thomas guessed that he sat down on the bed. 

"Please can we talk?" He tried again. 

"This is beginning to look like a habit," Thomas couldn't see him but he could hear the sarcasm. He frowned all the same.

"What is?"

"You apologising and then doing stupid shit anyway."  
Thomas grit his teeth. 

"Can I just.. Can I come in and talk to you? Properly?"  
There was no response. Thomas could barely hear it, but the faint clatter of Hamilton's cheap, cable earphones alarmed him. He didn't have long.  
"No, no! Don't put your earphones in! I know you want to block me out, but please just listen to me. I was an asshole. I know we aren't exactly best friends, and we aren't on good terms, like ever, but I went too far. And I know that I went too far.  
You were so annoying and infuriating all this time and I just wanted something to break that cycle, to humiliate you, to annoy you back. And I took it way, way too far. I never should have taken your phone, let alone look at your messages." 

Thomas took a breath. He didn't even know if Hamilton was listening. He pressed his ear against the wood, straining for sound.  
The muffled clacking of plastic against plastic and quiet footsteps approaching the door had Thomas assuming that Hamilton wasn't blasting Minecraft parodies, or whatever he called music to block him out, and was now at the door. So he was listening after all.

"I.. uh..," Thomas started up again, "I realised over this week that no matter how hard I hate you, I cannot actually hurt you or make it personal. I shouldn't have slapped you and I should have never intruded in on your life like that.  
I obviously didn't know that you're.. gay. Or bi. Or.. not straight. And I may not know much about it, but from what I've heard, the only person who decides when and how I find out is you. And you know, as much of a jerk I may seem, I'm not a homophobe.  
I'd be a hypocrite if I was a homophobe because I've…, " Thomas hesitated, before continuing, "I've had to deal with racism. I've had people come up to me spewing some white supremacist bullshit. And I can't control what colour my skin is, the same way you can't control who you love. So uh.. I know you may not want it, after the shit I pulled, but you have my support. I don't what... what that support would be, but you have it. Of course I won't use this against you in court, if that's what you're internally panicking about." 

Thomas stopped to listen. He could barely hear Hamilton's shaky breathing, but it was there.  
"So if you're still listening to me, I'm so, so sorry. I promise, I swear on my life, I will never go that far again. You've barely said anything all week, and you've been hiding- avoiding me in your room You don't have to come out yet, if you're not ready, but if you do… it can be us again. You know, regular insults and glaring. We can even talk about this boy of yours.  
Or-or not, but uh.. please know I'm so very sorry H- Alexander. I hurt you. I feel horrible about it and I'm sorry." 

Thomas had run out of words. His chest rose and fell irregularly.  
'That was… that was a start,' Thomas told himself. His mind was.. clearer now. He strained his ears again. There were no sounds coming from Hamilton's side.  
Thomas sighed solemnly, turned away and headed for his room.  
Hopefully that was a start towards the return of normality. 

20:00

Thomas stretched his long arm to the ground and picked up the red crayon that rolled off his desk. Once settled, he started to colour the roses at the bottom of the page.  
James once recommended that he try colouring in as a distraction. And Thomas would never admit it to anyone, but colouring in became a regular, stress relieving activity. 

The house was completely silent. Thomas wasn't in the mood to listen to music and his housemate was still holed up in his room. Thomas was starting to wonder if maybe he should try again. Perhaps Hamilton would let him in to properly apologise.

He put down the crayon, flexed his hand to relieve the cramps and admired his work. The rest of the garden's flowers remained white and colourless, however the roses stood out, bright and red. It was enough for today. Closing the colouring book, he hid it in his drawer and took a few long strides to his door. Thomas took a steady breath, cleared his mind and started to think about what he would say.  
'Hamil-,' No. 'Alexander? Can we talk?' That sounded a bit… lame in his head.  
'Think of something you idiot,' he stressed in his head and opened his door.  
Thomas almost jumped out of his skin when he nearly crashed into Hamilton himself. 

Hamilton seemed just as startled, flinching violently and shrinking into his beloved dark green hoodie. He looked up abruptly in fright. Thomas caught the sight of red, puffy eyes before the man hid his face by tilting his chin down. He'd definitely been crying. 

"Haa...I... hi? Hi," Hamilton stammered awkwardly, eyes wide and no control over what he was saying whatsoever. He clenched his fist and fell silent, probably to not embarrass himself more.  
Thomas took this as his cue to speak. 

"Hello," he blurted out, mentally kicking himself. Hamilton swallowed nervously and his eyes darted from the floor, to the cuffs of his hoodie, to Thomas and back to the floor again. 

"You uh… you wanted to talk to me?" He asked quietly, picking at his skin on his fingers. 

"Yes. I- I did," Thomas hesitated, looking behind his shoulder. Should he really let Hamilton into his room, his sanctuary, his safe space? It might make his apology more sincere. He quickly scanned over his room to see if all of his most private things were in their, correct, hidden places. It was safe, "Uh… come in."  
And with that, Thomas let Alexander into his room. 

Thomas stiffly settled in his chair while Hamilton awkwardly sat on his black duvet covered bed.  
"Uh-," he started. Not a great start. He exhaled. Patience Thomas, "I-," 

"Actually," Hamilton interrupted, and Thomas couldn't help but smile internally. Maybe Hamilton was returning to his normal self after all, "Can I start?" 

"Uh.. sure," Thomas spread his hands and he mentally crossed his fingers. The last thing he wanted was to make the situation worse. 

"I uh…" Hamilton began nervously. Then he swallowed and started up again, "That was… that was one of the most sincere apologies that anyone has ever said to me. Yes. You were a major asshole. And I didn't think you'd sink so low. But I… uh… I didn't think you'd be able to redeem yourself," he swallowed again, clenching and unclenching his fists, "And I didn't think I'd forgive you. But as I said, that apology sounded genuine. And you promised not to do something similar again.  
I remember this time, that one intern, in the break room, she asked you not to slam your hands on the desk when doing anything, because that was a trigger for her," Hamilton scoffed nervously and fidgeted, "And you hate interns. I know that much about you. And you promised her that you will never do it again. And you didn't. And I guess the point of that was that you keep your promises. So I guess I… accept your apology? But not fully. I still hate you. But uh.. just..," Hamilton stammered, then curled his arms under his legs, "Not as.. much?"  
He frowned and looked away.  
"I'm sorry, that sounded better in my head." 

Thomas swallowed thickly and smiled nervously. Thank God.  
"I'm… glad. I'm really glad that you can forgive me… Alexander. I was worried that you wouldn't speak to me ever again." Alexander's name on his lips wasn't a feeling he could ever get used to.

"What is this?" Hamilton narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Why would you want to willingly talk to me?" 

"What I mean is," Thomas rushed to correct himself, "I was worried that… I'd hurt you beyond apology and I'll spend the rest of quarantine and life being haunted by the fact that I fucked up and I wouldn't be able to fix it." 

"Alright well, you can stop having an existential crisis Jefferson," Hamilton smiled. Not smirked, smiled. However that smile faltered with another nervous frown, "But um.. just to satisfy my inner panic, you don't mind that I'm.. you know?" 

Jefferson frowned in confusion, before catching on. Oh of course he was panicking.  
"That you're… into guys? Of course I don't mind."

"So you're not gonna throw me out?" Hamilton blurted out. 

"If I do throw you out, it will definitely not be because you like guys," Thomas stated firmly with a gentle smile, "I promise." 

"Promise?"

"I promise Alexander. Do you want to tell me about this guy? Only if you want to." 

"He's uh… well…"

21:00

"Sounds like Alexander Hamilton has a big fat crush on his best friend," Jefferson teased with a playful grin.

"Shhh shut up!" Alex giggled and hid his face in Jefferson's pillow. His face was on fire and his heart was racing. Out of all the people in the world to discuss his embarrassing crush with, Thomas Jefferson was at the very bottom of his list, possibly even lower.

"As much as I hate you Alexander, I do really hope that you guys get together," Jefferson said sincerely. Alex smiled shyly. Who was this version of Thomas Jefferson and what had this demon done with him? Apart from Jefferson's uncanny niceness, hearing the guy say his actual name was more weird and unsettling than it probably should be.

"Thank you," Alex cleared his throat and settled the pillow back onto Jefferson's bed, "How about you Jeffershit? You got someone?"  
Jefferson's sincere smile widened into a forced fake one, Alex could tell.

"No," he answered simply 

"Y'know, Angelica said you're sworn off dating-."

"Mhm," Jefferson hummed vaguely. Oh this was interesting.

"Did you used to have someone?" Alex knew that he was stepping into hot water barefoot, but when did that ever stop him?

"Oh would you look at that?" Jefferson purposely pulled out his phone for the first time in ages, "It's bedtime for the tots."

"Oh come on-."

"Hamilton," Jefferson stopped pretending and his face fell, "This was nice. Now get lost before we go back to normal."  
Well. This was certainly a subject Jefferson avoided.

"Sure," he instead offered a small smile, standing up and moving towards the door, "This was nice."

"Mhm," Jefferson hummed again, this time more passive-aggressively than last time. 

"Getting lost," Alex smirked and the moment both his blue, sock-clad feet hit the cold wood of the hallway, Jefferson shut the door. 

Alex was definitely asking him about the blouse whenever he got the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the first step towards a better relationship?
> 
> Please PLEASE give me feedback, I need to know if you guys are enjoying my trash  
> And if you're not, tell me why
> 
> Also, if I ever miss a trigger warning, PLEASE tell me, the last thing I want is to accidentally trigger someone


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has learned his lesson in respect, but has Alexander?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go lovlies.   
> TW - grief

APRIL 1 DAY 32

07:50

"Thomas Jefferson! Get your ass down here!"   
Hamilton yelling first thing in the morning was never a good sign.

"What. The fuck," Thomas yawned and stomped down the stairs, "Do you want?"   
Running a hand through his hair to make it look presentable, he breezed into the kitchen to find Hamilton opening all his cabinets with a crazed glint in his eyes. 

"There's nothing," the maniac dived into a cabinet and pulled out its contents, "to eat in this fucking house." 

Thomas rolled his eyes as he blindly pulled out yogurt, a spoon and a slice of bread. He stuffed the bread into the toaster, slammed the handle down and spun around to face the creature in his kitchen. Said creature had successfully emptied every cabinet that contained food. The kitchen was a mess now. Way to go Hamilton.

"Please elaborate," he sighed heavily in exasperation, "I don't know if you mean in general or did we run out of a singular product?" 

"There is no," Hamilton growled aggressively while shoving the food back into the cabinets, "cereal. Anywhere. In this damn house." 

Thomas exhaled through his nose and found a plate that was in decent condition to eat on. The dishes needed washing. And it was Hamilton's turn. Busying himself with a glass of water, Thomas side glanced at the man in question. If he was being honest with himself, he looked on the verge of a tantrum. 

"You can eat something else for the time being," Thomas pointed at him with a spoon, "When we actually run out of food, we'll get you some artificial sugar styrofoam." 

Hamilton sprang up from his crouched position and glared at him.   
"Don't you dare insult cereal," he hissed and flung open the fridge door, "and there is nothing else to eat. So get off my ass."

"Relax," Thomas mumbled behind a spoonful of strawberry yogurt, "looks like someone's hangry." He ignored Hamilton's noises of outraged protest and plucked his toast from the toaster. Dropping it on the plate and returning to his yogurt, he added, "I ran out of green juice last week but you don't hear me complaining."

"Oh?" Hamilton exclaimed with mock sympathy, "So you're suffering in silence?"   
Thomas breathed in and out. Patience. 

"Hamilton," he turned around and offered a fake, sickly sweet smile, "I understand that you've run out of comfort food. I get it. But for now, you're gonna have to be a big boy, suck it up and convert to toast with me."   
Thomas almost broke his facade as Hamilton's face contorted into pure, comical disbelief. 

"Suck it up?" He repeated, eyes shining with a caged outburst, "How about you suck on this, sucker boy, there is no bread left." He pointed aggressively to where the bread always sat. The bag had fallen over and was indeed, empty. Thomas frowned. He was sure he bought enough packets of bread to last a few months, even if it was stale. 

"Wait, there's no bread, at all?" He asked while taking a guilty bite of his toast. 

"Yes," Hamilton gave an over exaggerated nod, "Now you're catching on." 

Thomas stood up and opened the fridge. Okay, Hamilton was right. The fridge was looking quite empty. Most of his enormous yogurt stash was nearly gone. They were running low on vegetables, with the last few carrots barely passing as dinner material. His green juice was long gone, and the only thing left to drink was Hamilton's almost finished Gatorade. They couldn't survive on plain pasta and rice forever. 

"Alright, you have a point," Thomas muttered, looking around the kitchen and shutting the fridge. Hopefully he could order food online, "I won't let you go hungry, you can have the rest of my toast."   
He didn't even finish the sentence before Hamilton pounced on his breakfast and started to wolf down the half piece of toast.

"I'm pretty sure this bread is stale," Hamilton grimaced, coughed and stood up, "What am I gonna eat for-,"

"WE," Thomas talked over him, pulled out his phone and set an alarm to make a Target order, "are going to have to go on a rice and pasta binge fest. It's your turn for dishes by the way." 

"Can't be bothereeed," he pouted and wiped his hands on his green hoodie. Thomas sighed irritably. 

"Well, it's your turn and I did it last week," he stretched, gulped down his glass of water and moved towards the staircase, "God you're so self centred," he muttered under his nose. 

"I'm sorry? I’M self centred? Shut the fuck up, you are the biggest egoist possible,” Hamilton screeched after him, his loud, annoying voice peircing Thomas' ears. 

“You are so obnoxious," Thomas scoffed in disbelief, "There are other problems in this house."

“Oh yeah? Like what?" Hamilton wildly gestured at his current state of dress, "Your sense of fashion?”

“I was referring to the lack of food," he shook his head and looked down. He was very fond of these dark grey, knee length shorts and white, Spiderman t-shirt that he adopted as pyjamas. Whereas Hamilton, in that ridiculous hoodie and black joggers at least two sizes too big, resembled a sack of potatoes, "Listen, YOU cannot talk about me having no sense of fashion when YOU are the one who didn’t wash that hoodie for AGES. It’s not even a nice hoodie."

"You know what," Hamilton folded his arms and clenched his teeth, "Fuck you. I don't have time for this. I need to work."   
And with that, he spun on his heel and thumped up the stairs. 

"Fine," Thomas called after him, "Get down here at twelve, best to order together."  
A door slammed and Thomas assumed that he was heard. 

12:00

Alexander wiped his brow on his bicep, careful to not cover himself in soapy foam. No Zoom today, just documents to process. He had finished early and decided it best if he did the dishes now, instead of later when he'll be tired and Jefferson will be moaning at him. He scrubbed at the last plate, washing the stains away and putting it aside to dry.   
He exhaled heavily, arms numb and fingers pruned with water. Finally, now he didn't have to do this for another two weeks. 

"Oh wow, you did a surprisingly good job."  
Alexander spun round at the condescending comment to glare at Jefferson and his open laptop.   
"Change of heart?" He quipped, setting the laptop down on the table and pulling over two chairs.

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy," Alexander smirked, swiping a cloth across the counter to dry it after the splashing soap. Jefferson stared at him in disappointment. 

"If I hear another Vine reference from you, you're doing dishes until lockdown is over," he blinked nonchalantly and tapped his hand on the table, "Sit."  
Alexander rolled his eyes and slipped into the chair. Annoying Jefferson never got old. 

"Alright, is there anything else we want to add?" Jefferson scrolled through their shopping list. 

"In all seriousness," Alexander's eyes scanned through the products, checking he could make quick, easy dinners from everything ordered, "Could we get ice cream?" 

"Ice cream?" Jefferson grimaced, "You already have your Gatorade and we have a pack of chocolate if we want some sugar." 

Alexander blinked in disbelief. Was this man being serious? Oh no. Alex wasn't going through another month of having to consider fruit salads as "dessert."  
"Really? We're in a pandemic Thomas, I think we're allowed to treat ourselves," he scoffed with a sickly sweet smile, typing 'ice cream' into the Target search bar.

"I've noticed you use my name when you want something," Jefferson shook his head and crossed his arms, staring at the loading circle, "Brat." 

"Asshat," Alexander replied without thinking, then pointed his finger at the multitude of ice cream tubs on the screen, "What flavour do you want?" 

"I'm sure this will do just fine," Jefferson added a small tub of vanilla ice cream to the list and clicked off the page to checkout, "Okay last minute check, do we-."

"Wait wait woah what?" Alex spluttered turning to face him, "We're not getting just one tub." 

"Listen-," Alex wasn't having any of Jefferson's excuses. He wanted his ice cream damnit. 

"No," he leaned in closer to Jefferson, disintegrating him with his eyes, "Let me. I am the one who wanted ice cream, so I get to choose the flavours." The standoff between their eyes raged for a moment. However, Alex was clearly more determined than Jefferson to win this one. Jefferson sighed and fell back against the backrest of the chair. 

"Fine," he clipped, visibly restraining himself from commenting further, "Fine." 

Alex hissed a quiet 'yes!' under his nose, and scrolled through the paradise of frozen treats. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jefferson shook his head in resigned disbelief. 

Cookie dough, chocolate, chocolate fudge brownie, Oreo and caramel ice cream all made their way into the shopping basket. It was at cotton candy that Jefferson sat up and actually saw what his bank account was going through. Not that it mattered much. Being a lawyer did have its perks.

"Cotton candy ice cream? And you call me a freak for eating healthy," Jefferson sighed and folded his arms again, "That's enough."

"Ok, do you want any?" Alex asked politely, half expecting Jefferson to go give him another lecture about how his body is too pure for filth like ice cream. Instead, the man turned to look out the living room window, avoiding his gaze. 

"May I have a small tub of strawberry please," he asked quietly, pronouncing his words clearly and with forced calmness. Strawberry. Of course Thomas Jefferson eats strawberry ice cream. 

"Imagine liking strawberry ice cream," Alexander muttered, adding it to the cart and moving the laptop back over to the middle of the table.

"Imagine liking cotton candy ice cream, you little weirdo," Jefferson retorted loudly.   
After confirming that they had everything they needed, Jefferson pulled out his card. Alexander turned around as Jefferson typed in his credit card numbers.

"You owe me Hamilton," he muttered as the keyboard clacked, "Split the total fifty fifty?"   
Alex hummed in agreement. 

A silence fell over them, however for once it wasn't tense or awkward. Alex allowed his eyes to wander over the outside world through the living room window. He caught a pair of birds chasing each other in a flurry of colours, tweeting and screeching excitedly. 

Alex smiled subtly. It reminded him of John, at his heels while Alex kicked a ball across a field. Lafayette laughing and recording them on his phone while Hercules playfully warning them that they are going to trip. And they did. First Alex's shoe caught on a rock and he face-planted into the soft grass. Then John tripped over his sprawled body and joined him on the ground. All four of them laughing hysterically in the pleasant sun while lounging on a bright and colourful quilt, hand knitted by Hercules' grandmother.  
Alexander sighed. As soon as they were out of lockdown, they were definitely having another picnic.

"All done," Jefferson cleared his throat and put his computer on standby, "You okay?"  
His brain stopped momentarily. Jefferson asking if he was okay? 

"Yeah.. I'm fine," Alex replied hesitantly, "Why?" 

"What?" Jefferson sighed heavily while getting up from the table, "Am I not allowed to ask if you're okay?" 

"No just-," he stood up hastily and leaned against the chair, "You never ask me." 

"Well I can start today," Jefferson shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "You seem very on edge and passive aggressive for the past two days." 

Alex frowned. He wasn't… passive aggressive. He avoided the question and glanced at the window again.   
"Question. Why can't we walk to a supermarket and buy all of this?" He asked genuinely, "The food shops are still open. It will take a couple of days for the delivery to arrive." And because Alexander was craving actual, in person conversation with someone who wasn't Jefferson.

Jefferson's long arms slid out like snakes from his pockets and picked up the sleeping laptop. Moving across from the kitchen to the living room, he replied with, "Because I won't leave you here by yourself while I go."

"But... I could go," he offered hesitantly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Or we could both go?"

"In case you have forgotten," Jefferson placed the laptop on the couch and spun round," you are more at risk from this stupid virus than I am. I'm not letting you catch COVID. No way." By his clipped tone, Alex realised that he was being serious. 

"You seem to care a lot about me recently," he remarked halfheartedly. Jefferson narrowed his eyes and leaned against the back of the couch. 

"Well," he sighed lightly, "I am, after all, trying to make up for my mistakes."   
Oh. So this is what this was all about. Alexander scoffed sarcastically. 

"You can stop pretending to care now," he dropped the sarcasm to add sincerely, "You made your apology and I accept it." 

"So I'm not allowed to ask if you're okay?" Jefferson repeated his question from earlier. Alex's mind wandered for a response.   
Funny things, brains. Reminding him of random things at random times. He mentally time travelled back to that horrid night, which Alexander labelled The Slap in bold and red. 

"Last time I asked you that, you weren't exactly keen on talking to me either," Alex mused out loud, using Jefferson's approach against him.  
Jefferson smiled sarcastically and shook his head.

"You know what. I'm not gonna be nice to you then. Make it easier for both of us," He furrowed his eyebrows, glaring at Alexander, "Are you happy now?" 

"Very," Alex glared back and decided he had enough of this. He shot Jefferson one last venomous glare and stomped back upstairs.   
Alex could feel that it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

18:00 

Bored.  
So. Very. Bored.   
Alexander put down the fork as he chewed on his rice and sighed loudly. There was nothing else he could do. All of his work was finished, for the time being anyway. He had scrolled for miles on Instagram, the words blurring together and making little sense. Had had watched a few episodes of Friends, just to be doing something, but eventually the laughing tracks annoyed him so much he slammed his phone onto the bed. None of his friends were online. Nothing was satisfying his boredom.   
Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Alexander grabbed his plate and breezed downstairs. In a swirl of green hoodie and brown ponytail, he waltzed into the kitchen, dumped his plate into the sink and leaned on the couch of the living room. 

Jefferson didn't even react as his eyes stayed focused on the glaring screen of his laptop. Alexander tapped his fingers against the armrest.  
Nothing.   
If not for the remains of rice on the discarded plate beside him, Alexander would have guessed the man hadn't moved since noon.   
Alex stared at him, hoping he'd at least turn around to look at him.  
Nothing.  
He sighed loudly and dramatically.   
"I'm bored," he announced, once again tapping a random rhythm on the armrest.   
Again, nothing.   
"Earth to Jefferson. Alexander is bored," he said louder, fighting the impulse to grab the laptop from Jefferson's knees. He was the workaholic in this household, not Jefferson.

"And what do you want me to do about it," Jefferson deadpanned, without any actual curiosity in his tone. Alexander sighed again.

"I don't know dude, I thought we could do something together. Play cards, watch a movie or some shit," he shrugged, pulling things from the top of his mind. Maybe if he could pretend Jefferson was somebody else, this could go well enough, "Plus you've been in front of that computer for hours."  
Jefferson snorted without smiling, still not looking at him. 

"You're one to talk," he commented while starting to type something in a word document, "You're usually the one who needs to be peeled away from his keyboard. Plus weren't you the one who preferred it if we weren't smiley to each other?"   
Being nice about this gradually faded from the list of Alexander's priorities. 

"You seemed really upset that you couldn't be nice to me," Alexander bit back sarcastically, "Come onnn, you can pretend I'm somebody else. A friend or some shit. Oh wait-."

"You are insufferable! I'm already behind with stuff and I need this to be finished," Jefferson finally snapped, shoved the laptop to the side and looked at him. He shook his head in angry disbelief, "How did you even get promoted this far at work? Or did Washington give you that promotion after you-." 

"How dare you!" Alexander hissed, standing up straight and clenching his fists, "I'm not even gonna let you finish that. You however…" 

"Fuck you Hamilton," Jefferson snarled, "We all know Washington favours you." 

"You however," Alexander repeated loudly, temper rising and bubbling inside of him, "I have no idea who promoted you Jeffershit. I have no idea how anyone can stand you." 

Before Jefferson could even bite back, before Alexander took the time to actually think about what he was saying, he blurted out:  
"No wonder you're single, the only people who can put up with you are James and your one night stand."   
A silence fell. Jefferson's face fell into a calm contained facade, about to explode at any moment. This was certainly an expression Alexander hadn't unlocked that expression yet.

"What," Jefferson uttered with a slightly shaky voice. A quick glance to the side confirmed that the man's fists were slowly clenching. This should have been the big, bold, red 'STOP' sign for Alex, the 'if possible, reverse' instruction underlined with a neon highlighter. However, his brain had one priority, attack Jefferson, think later. 

"Oh don't pretend," Alexander scoffed nastily, "Clearly she forgot some of her stuff." 

"What the fuck," Jefferson hissed in an odd, wobbly whisper, "are you talking about." 

"Well, if Mr Playboy here wants to follow me, maybe I can reignite an old flame," Alexander smirked and started moving. He swung round the bannister and started climbing the stairs.   
He knew Jefferson was following, his footsteps could be heard everywhere.   
Alexander didn't expect to finally uncover the secret of the blouse this way, but he was still excited enough to only think of Jefferson's reaction. Any opportunity to embarrass Jefferson was an opportunity he should take. 

He pushed the door open to the storage room and backed up to let Jefferson in. At this point, the man's eyes were glistening with something Alexander couldn't exactly pinpoint. Jefferson's fists were fully clenched and his cheek twitched from time to time. Alexander didn't care why. Yet.   
"Or perhaps you left it here, a reminder of the only person who was mad enough to hook up with you," Alex commented again while sidestepping to reach the boxes. Jefferson watched him like a hawk in silent, pent up rage.   
Alexander carefully lifted the box and delicately pulled the blouse out from under the cardboard. He dangled it in front of his chest with a triumphant sneer.  
"Unless you have a secret drag career you want to enlighten me about?"   
Then Alexander looked at Jefferson's face, properly. 

There was a whole palette of emotions dancing around. Fury. Horror. A distant sadness. Melancholy longing. Alexander stopped. He upheld his victorious smirk, however the cogs in his brain were turning. This was weird. This was another new expression that he hadn't seen on Jefferson before, but this was… different.  
After what seemed like years, Jefferson inhaled shakily and stepped forward.

"Give that. To me. Now," he demanded slowly and extended his arm.   
Alexander shook his head and scoffed.

"Not until you tell me-." 

"Give that to me right fucking now," Jefferson moved on him so suddenly that Alexander almost tripped backing up. His voice thundered through the room, almost scaring him into dropping the blouse. And yet, it still shook.   
Even though he was backed against the wall and staring Jefferson in the face, Alexander was the one who felt, and was, in charge. 

"Come on man, how long were you two together?" Alexander jeered, holding the blue bundle of silk away from the commotion, "two minutes?" 

He wasn't ready or prepared when a large, shaking hand grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie. With Jefferson's face inches from his own, Alexander's brain glitched for a second when he noticed Jefferson's eyes were brimmed with tears. Oh this, this was new.

"Give it to me," Jefferson hissed, jaw trembling, "or I swear to God Hamilton, you're gonna regret being born." 

"So I guess I won't find out then?" Alexander raised his eyebrows, poking at the time bomb one last time.   
SLAM!  
Alexander hissed in pain as his shoulder collided with the wall, Jefferson could shove a lot harder than him after all. His grip on the blouse loosened and the silky clothing fell through his fingers. At the same time, Jefferson bent his knees, caught it, let go of Alexander entirely and backed away.   
Alexander exhaled and adjusted his hoodie, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. Well. Jefferson sure was attached to whoever left it behind.   
Speaking of, Jefferson's attention was focused only on the blouse. With unstable hands, he held it close to his chest, looking at the floor, probably zoning out.   
He took a hesitant step forward towards the tremoring mass of Jefferson in the centre of the room.

"Wow uh…," Alexander exhaled again, "she really must have meant something to you."   
Jefferson turned around slowly and Alexander almost backed up again at the hurt, raging storm in his eyes. 

"It belonged," Jefferson hissed through clenched teeth, a tear dropping onto his cheek, "to my wife."   
Alexander faltered. His… wife? Jefferson had a wife? Who in their right mind would marry this dimwit? Alexander didn't think when he asked carelessly:   
"And where is she now? Left you?" 

"She's-," Jefferson managed to choke out before he had to swallow back a sob. Alex frowned. Jesus. He couldn't wait to tell John about this.

"She's what Jefferson? In a better place? Away from you?" 

"Dead." 

It was as if the world had stopped. Alexander blinked as his stomach dropped to the floor and grin fell away.  
All intention of embarrassing Jefferson was gone. All Alexander felt now was disgust. For himself.  
He had fucked up. Badly. 

Jefferson inhaled shakily and shook his head.   
"I hope you're proud of yourself, Hamilton,"   
And in three long strides, he was gone and Alex was left standing in the middle of the room.   
What had he done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scream at me in the comments. I need to break them apart a bit before I can start glowing then back together.   
> Also, here is a visual of the blouse- 
> 
> https://www.etsy.com/hk-en/listing/698027174/vintage-lace-top-elegant-blue-feminine
> 
> Leave me feedback, because I love hearing your comments! :))

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if this is good or not if I should continue, criticism, suggestions yada yada yada.  
> If you want something specific to happen during their lockdown ordeal that isn't smut, feel free to recommend it :)


End file.
